


I want your midnights

by numinousnumbat



Series: I want your midnights [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Brunch, Drugs, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Fred Weasley Lives, M/M, Mdma, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas, so many OMCs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-11 04:31:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13516635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/numinousnumbat/pseuds/numinousnumbat
Summary: Until Draco accepts Harry’s invite for a night out at a gay club with Harry’s friends, he doesn’t realize how lonely he’s been.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a series in two parts: part one is the actual story, and part two is a few deleted scenes.
> 
> This is mainly compliant with the books, but not the epilogue. Fred is alive. 
> 
> The title is from Taylor Swift’s “New Year’s Day.”

I fold and refold the note as Alya hoots at me impatiently. The sooner she can leave is the sooner she can get back out of this rain and gloom. I reread one last time, for the hundredth time:  
  
_I’ll be in Glasgow this week. Let me know if you are going out on Saturday? DM_  
  
I’m trying for friendly and casual, two things I’m terrible at. The worst he can say is no, I know, but putting myself out there even a little seems huge. But he wouldn’t have gone out of his way to invite me, I’m pretty sure, if he hadn’t meant it … at least meant it at the time.  
  
I’ve been at Gringotts since the day after my trial, and recently was promoted to Wizard Support Representative. Promoted in that I now have to travel most weeks to deal with angry wizards across the country and I don’t get paid more, but I have grown to not completely hate my job and getting out of London has been good for my mental headspace. For as big as London is, magical London feels like a small village most days.  
  
The goblins at Gringotts would rather not deal with wizards and I was their first customer service wizard hire, hired to be a liaison between the goblins that run the bank and the wizards that use it. They realised quickly they were onto something, and I’ve been helping train other wizards at their various locations, and hence, all of my recent travel.  
  
Harry bloody Potter showed up the week after I was promoted, the day after _The Quibbler_ ran a quite frankly flattering piece on me and the “new and improved Gringotts experience.” He was sitting on a bench on the walk between my flat and the office, and asked if he could buy me a coffee and ask a favour. Out of curiosity I agreed and was a bit surprised to find the "saviour of the wizarding world" had been banned from Gringotts. I was less surprised to find Hermione and the Ron were also banned, thick as thieves those three. Literal thieves I would find out in a few minutes after Harry explained the details. I promised to see what I could do, and so far I’ve been able to find his account balances and fill out paperwork. Bureaucracy takes its sweet time. Goblin bureaucracy when they’ve got a grudge could take a wizard’s lifetime.  
  
“What are you doing in London?” I asked over the coffee he had bought me, after he explained his banking problems.  
  
“Boys' weekend,” he shrugged. He glanced at my shoes, last season, but buffed to a shine and Gucci. “Heading to the Purple Unicorn tonight for the drag show.” He looked me in the eyes. Ah, it clicked into place.  
  
“They’ve a decent appletini there,” I said.  
  
He nodded at me. “You should come with us,” he said lightly, not breaking eye contact.  
  
I was tempted and terrified, but I needed to be in Leeds in an hour, my Portkey was already set. “Leaving for out of town with the job as soon as I finish this,” I said, pointing at my coffee.  
  
“Shame,” he said, with not enough inflexion for me to figure out what he meant. “Let me know when you’re up north, there’s a group of us that are usually up for a club or whatever on the weekend.”  
  
And now it’s three weeks later and I’m going to be in Glasgow and on a weekend, just a short floo away. If Harry is up for it. I give Alya a treat and the note and she flies off. It’s done.

***

Harry had written back within a few hours, tiny sloppy cursive. His floo address, 9 p.m. “We usually have a couple drinks at mine before we head out, probably to the Rainbow Room,” he'd scrawled. I wonder if it’s too late to ask who “we” are, but remind myself that I can leave if too many people are on the “Draco should be in Azkaban” squad. As far as I’m aware there might only be one person on the “Draco shouldn’t be in Azkaban” squad and that’s Harry, but it’s a start and I’m pretty sure he’d keep me from being murdered.

Work keeps me busy, trying to understand the Glaswegian accent has made my head hurt. I have my hotel room until Sunday afternoon, so I use the shower to get prepared for any sexy times that I’m hoping might happen tonight, and change into a black Oxford shirt, slim trousers, and my favourite bespoke dragonhide loafers. I spend a few minutes spelling my hair, decide that I’m too old for my usual night look, and use my everyday hair spell and call it done. With a deep breath and a bit of nerves, I floo to Harry’s.

His place - a large open studio flat with gorgeous wood floors and walls with a lovely patina - has a nice-sized fireplace and I’m able to step out easily without falling on my arse. “Hello?” I call, absentmindedly brushing ash from my trousers. I slip out of my loafers and leave them next to the overflowing shoe rack.

“Hi,” Harry calls back, stepping from behind a beautiful antique room divider, buttoning a cuff of a shirt that is exactly the green I remember his eyes being. I spot an unmade bed with a fluffy duvet behind the divider. He smiles broadly, his teeth gleaming white from his dark complexion, hair messy as usual. “You’re perfectly on time, the others will be here soon." He sighs. "They’re always some level of fashionably late even when I promise drinks.”  
  
“Thanks for having me,” I say. “Who’s all coming?” I’m trying for casual; I’m still working on it.  
  
“Let’s see, you know Dean and Seamus from Hogwarts. They’re still together, well, back together.” A few fingers wave me over to the kitchen area in the corner, where he’s walked over to a cupboard and is setting martini glasses on the counter. “What’s your poison?”  
  
I’m a lightweight, always have been. “What are you having?”  
  
His eyebrows furrow slightly at the cupboard. “I usually do vodka at the club and probably best to keep the same thing all night … vodka and cranberry?”  
  
“Perfect,” I say. “I’m a great barman, do you want me to do the honours?”

He motions to the counter with the glasses. “All yours.” I open the refrigerator to find the cranberry juice. He jumps up and sits on his counter, bare feet swinging and picks up where he left off. “Baz, I work with Baz, that’s Abbas Kapoor, he’s our Arithmancy professor. He would have been the same year as us at Hogwarts, but he went to a Muggle school in London, instead. Edison and Kelvin Yang, twins, they own Baize, that's the import shop a few doors down from the Weasleys' shop here in Hogsmeade. You’ll have to talk potions with them, Chinese potions are incredible and they’re always trying to explain the differences, but it’s all over my head.” He shrugs with a smile.  
  
We take our vodka and crans to the sofa, and chat a bit about work. He left the Aurors a few years ago to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. He fills me in on what Hermione and Ron have been up to lately - they're both still at the Ministry - and I tell him about the last time I visited Teddy. Padma and Parvati Patil have started an interior design firm, and Harry was their first paying client, which is why Harry's flat looks so put together and stylish. I tell him that it looks great, and he smiles softly and says it was all the Patils.

The Yangs are the next to arrive and they greet Harry with a hug and me with a handshake. My guess is that they’re older than Harry and I by a few years. Eddie is dressed in a silver vest, black jeans and silver loafers that I would never but maybe ought to and eyeliner, while Kelvin is in a black vest and dark grey jeans and black ankle boots. Dean and Seamus are next, looking like how I remember them from school but with better haircuts. Baz is last and is already tipsy and he’s wearing a yellow jumper with a giant pink flamingo on it. He’s a bit darker and a few inches shorter than Harry, although they have similar hair and bright white teeth that make them look like they could be cousins at least. More hugs for Harry and handshakes for me. I make vodka and cranberries for everyone as they arrange themselves on the sofas and chairs. I refill Harry’s glass and come and sit next to him on the sofa.

“So you’re newspaper boy,” Eddie says looking me over.

I feel the heat in my cheeks. “I suppose so.”

“Now Baz and I have a bet going,” he says.

“Oh?” I say.

“I’ve changed my fucking mind, alright!” Baz shouts, and most of the guys laugh. 

Eddie ploughs on. “Harry had _The_ _Quibbler_ right here on the coffee table and I said, ‘Oh, look at that fabulous gay man’ and Baz said you might be bi and we made a bet.”

I sneak a look at Harry who looks mildly embarrassed. “Did Harry think I was straight?” I ask.

“Harry doesn’t count.” Eddie sighs dramatically. “He doesn't realise when he's getting hit on at a _gay_ club because he assumes _everyone_ is straight.”

Harry buries his head in his hands. “One time,” I hear him mutter. “That was one time.”

“Anyway, I’ve changed my mind,” Baz says. “You are 100 percent gay.”

“Indeed,” I confirm. Harry looks up at me with a look I can’t place on his face.

"You looked like a total collar and cuff, but I was being open-minded," Baz says.

“Thank you ... I think,” I say. 

Harry is about to say something, but Baz changes the subject. “The Cannons are playing nearby in two days, so who are we going to see at Rainbow?” Baz asks, scanning the group.

"Gordon!" Eddie says. "That is a man that clearly likes it up the arse."

"No way! Straight as an arrow," Seamus says.

“I’d only go home with Dragomir,” I say.

Baz shoots me a look. “Threesome with Dragomir?” He holds out his hand for a high five, which I return. 

“I’d share this one time,” I reply.   
  
“Oh!” Eddie says excitedly. “You guys _have_ to hear this. So you know Jenkins, Joey Jenkins, right?”

“Mr Quidditch December 1993 and 1994, I am slightly familiar with him, yes,” I say with a laugh. You could probably figure out which of us was going to wind up gay based on our devotion to those calendars. I usually go for the seekers, but I can appreciate a cute beater. 

“Think about that photo of him that's just him in those orange pants," Eddie says. "So it’s after the Cannons versus Quafflepunchers semi-finals game last year. Kelvin and I were there in the bleachers and it was a bloody fantastic game. Jenkins takes a _hell_ of a bludger and is barely hanging onto his broom when the seeker flies _inches_ to his right and Jenkins lets go of his bloody broom so the second bludger gets him in the side as he’s _falling,_  which gives the seeker the time to grab the snitch and win the game.”

I remember from the replays; it would have been amazing to see in person. 

“So after the game, I go down to the fence by the locker rooms and hang out, you know, just to see who is there. The seeker is already out front giving a speech about teamwork or something, blah blah blah, so it’s me and a handful of kids looking for an autograph.” He takes a sip of the drink I made him. “Jenkins walks out and the kids are too nervous so I say, ‘Hey man, great game. You know, I’ve always wanted to see a professional Quidditch locker room.’”  
  
“I’m calling bullshit,” Kelvin interrupts, laughing. “I saw him right after and the story then was Eddie said, ‘Great game, want a blowjob?’” The whole group howls in laughter.  
  
“I’m taking artistic license!” Eddie exclaims.

“Either way,” Dean says, “those are both terrible lines.”  
  
“When you look like _this_ , you don’t need good lines,” Eddie says. He’s not wrong. “I just needed to make it clear what was on offer, and it _worked_. So he invites me in, and we’re the only ones there. Oh, can I say that it smelled like sweaty man? I’d normally be _so_ grossed out, but I was only thinking about one thing.” Eddie’s gesturing is growing more animated and flamboyant as he talks.  
  
“Do you ever think about other things?” Baz asks.  
  
“Pot, kettle,” Eddie says, pointing at himself and Baz. “So he pushes me back against the shower wall and sticks his tongue in my mouth and I’m like ‘ _yes_ , please.’ He sticks his hand down my trousers and I’m basically already at full mast, you know? I try to get down on my knees, I did offer to suck the man’s cock after all, and he’s all ‘I got a condom, can I fuck you?’”

“And they say romance is dead,” Dean says.  
  
Harry’s shaking his head, he’s probably heard this story. Seamus and Baz are listening intently.  
  
“Did you …?” Baz asks. “I would.”

“ _Fuck_ yes, I did. I’m _so_ into this idea, I pretty much have my trousers and pants off before he’s done with the question, and he’s pulling his clothes off, too. He’s rummaging through a bag and pulls out a condom and some lube and I just get on my hands and knees on the bench.”  
  
“Surely there was a better place?” Seamus says.  
  
“I hadn’t _planned_!” Eddie says. “Who in their life thinks they’re going to end up getting fucked by a beater in a gross locker room after a bloody Quidditch game? Anyway, I look over and he’s touching himself and it’s _big_ , like those calendar pictures were hinting at and it’s _perfect_. I’m not gonna be able to sit for a week and I can’t wait. He starts playing with my arse, he’s got some lube and gets behind me, and I feel what I think is a finger and I’m so ready and I’m like ‘yeah, man, come on, put it in me.’ And that’s when I realise” - he pauses for emphasis - “it’s all been glamours; he’s already got it in me, he’s got a _tiny_ cock and my life is a lie.”  
  
We’re all gasping and laughing. “No fucking way,” Seamus says.  
  
“I would not lie to you guys about a tiny cock, there have been enough lies about it already.”  
  
“So?” Baz asks, holding back a laugh. “Did you keep going?”  
  
“Ok, so he might have lied about the size of his cock, but he is a Cannon and made a _fantastic_ play, and I know my duty as a slutty bottom so I’m all ‘yeah, give it to me baby,’ and he comes. He gives me a reach around, and I come on the bench and it’s been like four maybe five minutes since we walked in. I don’t even think to Vanish the jizz, I just need out because I don’t know what to say, so I throw my clothes on, leaving my pants on the floor, because it would take too much time. His trousers are still around his ankles and I shake his hand and tell him ‘good game’ and run out of there."  
  
“Nooooo!” Dean says covering his face with his hands.  
  
“It didn’t happen!” Baz is laughing. “I wanked to that man’s photo!”

“We all have,” Eddie says, patting Baz’s hand. “But let my sexual escapade be a warning to you all!”

Baz starts on a story involving a hippogriff; he seems fairly drunk and I think you would need to know the story before he started telling this version to get the gist of it.  
  
“Speaking of glamours,” Harry says turning to me, eyes sparkling. “Let’s get you ready.”  
  
“I’ll get it,” I say reaching for my wand.  
  
“I insist,” Harry says. “As a guest in my home, I’ll provide the glamours. And, bonus, they won’t wear off for a while, so if you get lucky tonight, you can spend the night and be ok. Probably not brunch, just a warning.” He winks at me.  
  
My glamours last about an hour without refreshing, so I’m not going to fight Harry about this. “Just don’t turn me into a bear,” I acquiesce.  
  
“Are we all going incognito tonight?” Eddie asks.  
  
I’m quietly starting to panic and look around at everyone wondering if it’s time to bail. Even Baz has stopped his hippogriff story to look at me.  
  
“We could, but honestly I was just worried about Draco, he’s a bit … notorious,” Harry says.

Dean snorts but doesn’t say anything. Seamus rolls his eyes.  
  
“Are you really rich?” Kelvin asks leaning close to me.  
  
“He is,” Harry laughs.

“How rich are we talking?” Eddie asks. 

“When my father finds out I’m not doing my part to make the next generation of Malfoys, I'll be not at all rich,” I say.

“Rich or not, these glamours are to keep people from drunkenly hexing former Death Eaters,” Harry explains.  
  
“How were you old enough to be a Death Eater?” Kelvin asks.  
  
“The same way Harry was old enough to kill You-Know-Who.” I shrug. The further we leave the war in the past, the more I realise we were children, just children.

Harry chooses that moment to hit me with a glamour. I can tell how strong his magic is and yet it feels nice, like getting into a warm bath. Between the feel of his magic and the half of a drink I’ve had, I realise I’m smiling widely at Harry. He takes my arm and flips it over, undoing the cuff and rolling my sleeve up. “If you’re going to having fun naked times later, better take care of this, too,” and he sends a spell at the Dark Mark on my arm. It morphs into a red stylised stag, with connected navy dots behind it, and I recognise my constellation, the Draco constellation. It’s gorgeous. If I was going to ever allow something to be permanently put on my skin again, it’s the sort of thing I’d consider.  
  
Harry spins me by my hip to the group. “Well?” he says. Out of habit, I’m already rolling my sleeve down. I spot my reflection in an oversized mirror leaning against the wall next to the fireplace: my hair looks like it's been bleached blond by a cheap potion and my skin is tan. My face is ever so slightly not mine, the nose and chin and cheeks are just a bit off. It’s a good glamour, no one will recognise me, but I won’t be acting weird interacting this body.  
  
I get a few whistles and I realise I’m blushing a bit. “Draco Malfoy, California surfer,” I say with a small bow.  
  
The guys are using the loo and finishing drinks and putting on shoes and someone - Baz, I think - puts on a rather nice cologne and we’re all about ready.  
  
“Ok, if you get into a bad situation, send a Patronus,” Harry says. “Condoms are on the mantle, take as many as you need. We’ll all Apparate to the normal spot, and head to Rainbow together.” I hadn’t realised Harry was such a mother hen ... it’s endearing.  
  
One problem. Shite. “Hey, I don’t know where we’re headed,” I tell Harry. “Could I side-along?” He doesn’t say anything but slides his arm around my waist and pulls me closer so we're touching. The others are Apparating one-by-one until it’s just us.  
  
“Ready?” he asks.  
  
“I can’t Apparate anymore,” I confess. “The Mark messes with my magic too much.”  
  
His eyebrows are quizzical, but he murmurs, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” and it feels like the lightest of summer breezes and we’re suddenly on a chilly dark street corner. The rest of the group has started down the pavement, and he keeps a hand on my back as we hurry to catch up with them.  
  
We’re a block away, and I can hear the bass thumping already. Anticipation for a night out gives me butterflies in my stomach; I've been so fixated on seeing Harry again that I've forgotten there is a whole night to get through. There’s a queue and a cover, but we skip both thanks to the Yangs and are escorted to the VIP section, a few steps up towards the back of the club, a couple of sofas and a low table. There’s a good view of the dance floor and it’s a few decibels quieter so you can almost have a conversation.  
  
I stand at the railing for a moment. I’ve only been to Muggle gay clubs and gay bars, as it's been too risky to go wizard. This would be a small club in London, but I’m glad to see wands and a few robes. There’s not a lot of gay culture in the wizarding world and we’ve mostly borrowed from the Muggles, so this honestly looks like it could be a fancy dress night at a Muggle place. It feels less strange than I thought.

Baz hasn’t made it to the VIP section and is already dancing on the main floor. He has good rhythm and has already attracted a few men to dance near him.

I claim a spot in the middle of the sofa. Eddie and Kelvin seem to know everyone, and lots of people are waving and stopping by to say hello. They introduce me to a few as “Dane” and everyone is friendly, and I get a few suggestive glances. I dance a few songs and try not to drink too much. Baz never leaves the dance floor and is mainly grinding on an older-than-us white man. Eddie in his silver shirt is getting a lot of attention from a variety of men; he flirts easily. Kelvin is in deep discussion with another Asian man at the bar, but it doesn’t seem to be flirty enough for a hookup, and I wonder if it’s business or maybe a friendly ex.  
  
Seamus and Dean are snogging in a chair designed for one in our VIP section. Harry’s ended up next to me on the sofa, and I nudge him after handing him a drink, my round. “What’s their deal?” I ask inclining my head towards Seamus and Dean.  
  
“I think they break up for the makeup sex.” The music is so loud that he has to lean over to talk in my ear; his voice is low and smooth. “Neither is great in bed, but together, that is another story.” He leans back and I see him grinning. Ha! I should have guessed Harry could be a bit naughty.  
  
“First-hand knowledge?” I ask for the chance to lean over to his ear; I know the answer.  
  
He nods solemnly. “And I’d do it again,” he says, hand over his heart.  
  
“What about the rest of them?” I ask. “Have you been with the Yangs or Baz?”  
  
“Baz, yes, but he doesn’t do relationships. And as much as I like Kelvin and Eddie, I never got that spark with them,” he says. “And none of us would be long-term compatible as a couple and it’s not worth it if things got weird. I like them as friends.”

I wonder what it’s like to have friends like that, and friends you can sleep with and still be friends. 

“My turn,” he says, smiling coyly at me and the air between us feels charged. “What are you looking for tonight?”

I’m having trouble finding words, which is unusual for me. “This,” I say, hesitantly. “I’m straight in the magic world and gay in the Muggle world and it’s nice to be gay in the magic world. I just want my twink arse to sit here on this sofa with my wand and be myself.”

Harry laughs. “Your wand or your” - he waggles his eyebrows - “ _wand_ ,” as he makes a crude gesture.  
  
“Both,” I say. I walked into that one and, honestly, true.  
  
“Are you going home with anyone?” he asks. “The cute one with the afro, perhaps?” I had danced to a few songs with a really hot guy. I’m just figuring out how to take all those formal dance lessons and use them in a club; alcohol helps, but it felt like I was holding my own … ok, at least didn’t step on his feet much. On a normal night out, I'd hopefully already be heading to his place. But tonight I’m feeling content to just sit and talk.  
  
“Not tonight,” I tell Harry, my heart is beating fast. “You?”  
  
“What if we headed back to my place,” he says. “A nightcap. Sex if you want to because I think it would be great, or we can put on a film or go to bed.”  
  
I’m honestly dumbfounded. But, if I’m being honest - and if you can’t be honest with yourself at 2 a.m. in a club, when can you? - it feels inevitable. I smile, I’m ready to leave here at least. “Lead the way.”

Seamus and Dean leave with us, and we wave at Eddie and Kelvin. Baz hugs us all for an uncomfortably long time and tells us each that he loves us, and kisses Harry on the mouth. Baz is my favourite. I tell Harry this as we emerge into the cool and quiet night air. “If you have a fetish for Indian dudes, I’m gonna take all the credit,” he tells me, slinging his arm around my waist.

“Indians, what about seekers?” I ask. He laughs, it’s a good laugh.

Seamus and Dean bid us adieu and head to their place. They’ve mostly ignored me for the night, which is probably better than I deserve for how I treated them in school.  
  
“Would you like to go for a walk?” Harry asks. “There’s another apparition point near the river.”  
  
“That sounds nice,” I tell him. It’s nice to be away from the club, and I’m not sure I’m ready to figure out if I want sex with Harry. I mean, I definitely _want_ to have sex with him, but it’s probably a terrible idea for many reasons.  
  
“One thing,” he says, touching his wand to my forehead, and I feel the glamour falling off, and there’s the relief, like taking off an uncomfortable pair of socks. “I like your face better this way.”  
  
I don’t know what to say to that, so I say nothing and we walk companionably toward the river. It’s not too far and I can’t see much in the dark, but the sound is soothing. A soft “Lumos” from Harry and it’s easy to make our way over the rocks at the banks.  
  
He’s telling me a story about teaching and I’m not really getting the particulars, but I can tell how much he cares about his students. He pauses, and I make the right noises to indicate that I’ve been listening.  
  
“Can we try something?” I ask. Harry’s looking at me and I lean in and kiss him. He kisses back and it’s a nice kiss and then he grabs the side of my head and it’s a filthy sort of kiss that I feel to my cock, and that doesn’t happen to me often. We make out for a bit, and he’s got a cheeky hand feeling me through my trousers and my cock is still all in and I pull back and ask, “Bed?”

“Oh, hell, yes,” Harry groans as he kisses me again. We’re only a few steps away from the bridge, and under the bridge is the apparition point and Harry doesn’t ask, just puts his arms around me and we’re back in front of his fireplace. We lean on each other to take our shoes off and Harry leads me by the hand behind the divider to his bed.  
  
Between kisses, he takes off all of my clothes and I scramble up onto the bed and watch him take his clothes off. I’m mostly hard and stroke my cock a few times to keep myself that way. He’s beautiful, more broad and muscled than I remember from our time at Hogwarts, and his cock is as nice as I could have hoped. He opens a drawer on his nightstand and grabs lube and a condom and puts them near me, then climbs up and lays nearly on top of me, holding himself up on his elbows. We kiss more, slowly. He’s good at this, a lot of guys once you’re naked and in bed are only about heading for the main act.  
  
“I want to top you,” he says in my ear.

I figured laying on his bed with my legs open was a pretty good invitation, but I say softly, “Yes, please.” He folds himself back on his knees and puts lube on his finger. I feel naked and exposed but he kisses the inside of my knee and he spreads my legs more. The lube has warmed from his body heat by the time he makes contact down there and he plays a bit at my hole before sliding his first finger in. He gives me a look.

“Wore a plug today,” I tell him. “A small one, two fingers are going to be more work than one.”   
  
He adds more lube and slides two fingers in me, and I wiggle a bit to find a better angle. He grabs one of his many pillows and puts it under my hips, and the angle is way better, I’m simultaneously turned on and totally relaxed.  
  
“Have you worn a plug out before?” he asks. He’s scissoring his fingers slowly and it feels pretty amazing.  
  
“Yeah,” I say. “But I Vanish it before the undressing starts. More for practicality than fun as you never know when a top is going to be too impatient to get everything ready.”  
  
“Getting things ready is part of the fun,” he says, adding a third finger. I could probably fall asleep with him doing this. He’s transfixed watching his fingers slide in and out of me.  
  
“How did I not know you were gay at school?” I ask him.  
  
He laughs and looks up at me. “I didn’t know I was gay. Charlie - Charlie Weasley - had a hunch and invited me out. I didn’t realise all guys didn’t fantasize about other guys.” He shakes his head to clear his thoughts. “How about you?”

“Since always.” I don’t think this is a conversation I can have and keep an erection, and I’d really like to have an orgasm today.  “I’m ready now,” I tell him. I glance down and he’s still hard, and I’m glad he’s enjoying this part, he’s good at it. He wipes his hands on the duvet before getting the condom packet open and I must be pretty far gone that I’m not horrified by the casual way he’s leaving lube everywhere, not that we’re not about to make a mess ourselves. He rolls the condom on and I realise it’s time to be rolling over, and go to move.

Harry puts a hand on my shoulder to keep me on my back. “This way, ok?” he says and I pull his face to mine for a kiss. It’s not or never, I know. I want to go for never, but you never know how someone will react. It’s been … not good in the past.

“I can’t always keep an erection,” I tell him. “It’s not you, it’s me.”  
  
He laughs. “That’s supposed to be my line.” He kisses me, I’m glad he’s not making it weird. “Anything I can do to help?” he asks.  
  
“This is pretty brilliant already,” I tell him. “But I’ll let you know.” We keep kissing as he lines our bodies back up and he moves his hand down to guide his cock into me and it’s all pretty incredible. He’s taking his time, a few kisses followed by a few thrusts, gently moving deeper thrust by thrust, and he’s touching me everywhere and telling me how good I feel. Even if I never come, it’s the best sex I’ve ever had.  
  
I’m drifting between kissing his mouth and his neck, and my cock is for once thankfully behaving itself, and he asks if I want to come before or after him and I whisper “before” and he starts thrusting harder and puts his hand on my cock and it takes a few good strokes before I’m coming and before I’m finished he picks up the pace and is really pounding into me but we’ve been doing this so long and I’m so lubed up and relaxed from just coming that it feels great. He seeks my mouth out for a hard kiss and pounds into me a few more times harder than he has all night and just when it's about to be too much for me, he moans into my neck as he comes. He collapses on me and keeps kissing the bit of my shoulder where his face landed on me. I have never felt this good. He waits a few minutes for his breathing to slow down and wiggles out of me with a bit of a laugh - “so sensitive,” he says - and deals with the condom. He’s probably just thrown on the floor and I’m definitely going to be horrified by that, some other time, when I’m not so warm and sleepy. He wandlessly conjures a glass of water and I prop myself up for a couple of sips before sinking back down.  
  
“That was amazing and I’m going to sleep now,” I tell him.

He laughs from where he’s sitting and finishing the water. “Same.” The last thing I feel is him pulling a blanket on me and crawling in next to me.

***

I slowly come to, feeling warm and sated. Harry seems to be a few seconds more awake than me and has cast a Tempus. 9:43 a.m. I see him squint and then grab his glasses from the nightstand next to him before ending the Tempus. I feel like I could sleep a hundred more hours, but Harry is smiling at me from his pillow. “You want to do brunch alone or brunch with the guys?”  
  
“If I can use your shower, brunch with the guys is fine.”  
  
“All yours,” he says motioning to the door across from the bed. “Towels are on the shelf next to the sink.”  
  
Harry sends out his Patronus and I recognise it. I hold up my forearm where the stag and constellation are still holding steady. “Did you mark me with your Patronus?”  
  
He laughs. “I guess so, although it was mostly accidental - I was trying to not put down a House animal and apparently it was the next animal that came to mind. What’s your Patronus? I’ll do that one next time.”  
  
Next time, I do like the sound of that, it’s at least slightly more good than nerves at the moment. “I’d only have a Patronus if I’d learned before taking the Mark,” I say. “I don’t have a lot of people to talk to about it, but I think the leftover dark magic negates the spell.” I shrug, I’d probably miss it more if I had had it and lost it rather than just never had it. Would be handy, but I’d mostly love to know what form it would take, that’s the sort of thing you start daydreaming about as a small child. When I was a child, I wanted it to be a unicorn, actually, which is honestly one of the gayest things I can say about myself, and I had a cock up my arse not too many hours ago.  
  
“Do you want me to have Hermione research it from the Ministry?” He has his head propped up on his hand to look at me and his hair is everywhere.  
  
I sigh. “It’s honestly the least of the issues I have, but if she wants the project, I’d be interested in knowing.”  
  
“Wants the project? This is Hermione, there’s a 50 percent chance she’s already researched just in case someone stopped by with that question. And anything else you want to know.” He leaves the question dangling and I should probably mention I think my performance issues might be the Mark, too, but it’s all too embarrassing. I’m tired and lost in thought.

“So you think that Mark is making it so you can’t cast a Patronus?” he prompts.

Oh, Merlin, it is way too early to be doing this. “Yeah, before the Mark,” - my life is definitely divided between Before the Mark and After the Mark - “I was getting close, I could get wisps, but I can’t get anything now. It doesn’t feel like I’m casting, my magic just sits there.” He nods. I barrel on. “And it’s been hard to get an erection.” I haven’t talked to anyone about this, and my voice is squeakier than I like.

“You seemed to do ok last night,” he says, grinning at me.

A Chinese guardian lion Patronus bounds into the room. “Kelvin and I will be there in 30 minutes, and we’ll bring a potion for Baz,” it says before fading away.

“ _Shishi_ ,” Harry tells me. “Kelvin has the same one.”  
  
“I’m going to take you up on that shower, then,” I say and roll out of bed. I wince as I sit up with my feet on the floor.

Harry has noticed. “Sore?” he asks, looking a bit abashed.  
  
“Sore in the good way,” I tell him. “Like it was a fun night. I’m fine.” His fingers are dancing over his wand. “I’ll let you know after I shower if I need a healing spell.” His fingers relax.  
  
“Ok,” he smiles shyly at me. I get up and walk to the loo. He has an amazing old-fashioned clawfoot tub, and he’s added a room extender for a shower stall with rain showerheads. The tub is tempting, but we’re in a bit of a hurry. I poke my head out the door and call to where he’s starkers making coffee in the kitchen. “There's room for two in the shower if you want to join me.” He grins at me and I turn the taps on. I’m in the shower and sniffing products as he joins me. He’s grabbed a couple of flannels, too.  
  
He kisses me, soaps up a flannel with a citrus-smelling soap and starts washing my shoulders. The hot water feels so good. My cock is still limp, even as Harry runs a flannel over my body. He’s half hard but doesn’t make a move to do anything about it, and I leave it. I return the favour and wash him and it’s nice, although I skip his cock completely since he’s getting pretty hard. He does a wandless drying charm after I turn the taps off, and summons a couple of robes. I don’t know if he has overnight guests often, but he is treating me right.

Brunch is us, Eddie, Kelvin and Baz. Harry is serving fruit, croissants and coffee, thank Merlin. Baz shows up worse for the wear and still wearing the flamingo jumper. Eddie hands him a hangover potion and goads him for details.

“So Jake says” - Jake is the guy we left Baz with last night - “‘I’ve got the biggest ship you’ve ever seen’ and I think he’s talking about his Hampton Wick before we Apparate to a dock in Liverpool and he’s actually the second mate of a ship, and it’s literally this giant ship, it’s the size of Buckingham or something.”  
  
Kelvin has his hand over his mouth and is laughing. Eddie says, “Only you, Baz, only you.”  
  
“And I’m torn because when am I going to get a tour of a giant ship ever again, but also I kinda wanna fuck him.” Baz eats a bite of croissant. “So we compromise and do it in the captain’s chair.”  
  
“Size of his cock?” Harry asks.  
  
“Not, like, Titanic, but not a dingy, you know what I mean.”  
  
Everyone laughs. “How was your night, Eddie?” Baz asks. I remember Eddie dancing with a few guys, no idea who he ended up with.

Kelvin sighs. “Loud.”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs. “I’m so used to slumming it with the Muggles that I sometimes forget that I can do a Silencio.”

Baz perks up. “Or when you’re with a Muggle and you Accio, and then have to pretend that you had condoms right there, under those dirty pants.”

“I didn’t know about microwaves,” Kelvin says. “And then I had no idea what any of the buttons did, so I once threw a heating charm at leftover Ethiopian and said, ‘ding’.”

Harry gives me a look. “Hey, Draco, do you know what a microwave is?”

I want to be mad, but I can’t bullshit my way out of this. I know what _micro_ and _wave_ are, but can’t figure out how you put those words together to make something that makes food warm. “No,” I say, wincing. Everyone laughs at me, but it seems friendly. “Muggle houses are a nightmare,” I say. “I can never figure out which switch controls which light, and sometimes they don’t use the switch at all, it’s a knob on the lamp itself.”

“You’ve been in a Muggle house?” Harry says incredulously.

“For hookups,” I say. “I pretend to be drunk to explain why I have no idea how anything works.”

“Tell them you're so rich you’ve never had to turn on a light for yourself,” Baz offers with a grin.

"I'll try that sometime," I say. 

The Yangs are in the process of opening a queer-friendly tea shop, called Feilong. Kelvin wants a place for gay people to hang out that doesn't involve alcohol, and Eddie doesn’t think straight people appreciate good tea.  
  
“If you write a proposal, I can look it over for you,” I offer. “I don’t make any decisions, but I see a lot of proposals and can give you some pointers.”  
  
“Thank you,” Eddie says warmly. “I do like my friends cute and useful. What’s it like working for goblins?”  
  
“Better than expected,” I start. “If you think hiring a wizard from the most hated family in all of Britain and making him the only point of contact that wizards can have with your business is pretty funny, you might like working for goblins.” I shrug.  
  
“Could you help us with a name problem?” Eddie asks.  
  
“Probably,” I say. “Depends on the problem.”  
  
“Some of our accounts are under Kelvin’s dead name, and we need to get them changed.”  
  
It takes a few seconds to click. “Oh! Congratulations on the official name change, Kelvin,” I say. “I’m at the London branch on Monday, stop by and I'll see what I can do.”  
  
“Thank you,” Kelvin says.  
  
“Why do goblins run the banks here?” Eddie asks, changing the subject away from Kelvin’s name. “In China, wizards run wizard banks.”  
  
“Hundreds of years ago, wizards thought it was bad luck to handle money, and goblins took over then. Now they have the best vault protections and wizards are too far behind to catch up." It's a simplified explanation but hits all of the major points.

I remember to ask the Yangs about potions, and Harry’s right, Chinese potions are very interesting. Chinese potioneers work on balancing the potion as it’s made, so it’s more stable step-by-step. In contrast, the so-called "best" European potions try to use as few ingredients as possible, with the hope that fewer ingredients mean that there will be less unwanted interactions between ingredients, which also means they're usually giving up some effectiveness for stability. It’s easy for Chinese potioneers to tweak potions, even down to individual levels, where everyone in a family will have their own version of Pepper-Up or Dreamless Sleep. It’s fascinating.  
  
After we’re done eating, everyone says their goodbyes and floos away. 

“You can hang around as long as you like,” Harry says when I’m the only one left. He nervously twists a towel between his hands. I don’t usually do mornings after, I don’t know if he’s expecting more sex.

“What if I hung out in your bathtub?” I ask.  
  
His eyes light up. “I have bath potions that I got for Christmas that I haven’t even opened.”  
  
He starts rummaging around under his sink. I watch him for a bit. “Have you thought about using Accio?”  
  
“I sometimes forget I’m a wizard,” he says, looking slightly sheepish and very adorable. A handful of vials fly from different places around his flat and land neatly in his hand. I take a look. A few have the Weasleys' Wheezes logo on it, no thank you. I sniff a couple non-Weasley ones and choose a lavender-scented one.  
  
“Do you want company?” Harry asks.  
  
“I do,” I say. We walk back into the loo and he starts filling the tub, a few drops of the potion and the water is a lovely light purple colour with heaps of bubbles. He sheds his robe and steps in.  
  
“I never use this tub,” he says, sitting down. He sighs deeply, “I really should.” I take my robe off and step in carefully to avoid his long legs, manoeuvre into a sit in front of him, and lay back on his chest. Within minutes I’m half asleep. He’s running his hands over me, he feels for my cock, still limp, but leaves it and doesn’t make a move to try and see if he can get me erect. It wouldn’t work anyway. I pull my arm out of the water and his stag and constellation glamour is still holding strong. “Made it through brunch,” I tell him. He laughs.

“Do you want me to take it off?”  
  
“No, leave it,” I tell him. I don’t want Harry to have to see that thing.  
  
After our fingers are wrinkled and he's redone the warming charms a few times, he drains the bath. “Nap time?” he asks.  
  
“Tempting, but I do need to get going,” I tell him. It’s honestly been the best weekend I’ve had in years, but I know it would sound pathetic to say such a thing when it seems like this is a status quo sort of weekend for him. Another one of his drying charms, I think he must mix it with a bit of a warming charm, it’s quite lovely. I reluctantly get up and put on yesterday’s clothes. I have my wand and sit on the chair by the floo to put on my shoes.  
  
“I can Apparate you to your place,” he says.  
  
“I’m at a hotel,” I say, not that Harry’s been to my flat either.  
  
“I’ve got a trick if you want to try it.”  
  
“What kind of trick?” I ask.  
  
“If you can picture the hotel and start the Apparition, I can finish for you, and it won’t use any of your magical energy.”  
  
I whistle. That is some trick. “What are the odds of splinching?”  
  
“Not happened yet. But do think of the widest open area, and not like a closet.”

“I would never try to put you in a _closet_ ,” I say and he laughs. “Ok,” I say. He wraps his arms around me and I close my eyes and think of looking at the bed from the desk. I don’t even realise he’s done it until my feet feel carpet and not wooden floors.  
  
“I suppose after the killing curse didn’t get you, this is just child’s play to you?” He laughs, stands on his tiptoes so we’re the exact height, and kisses me on the lips.  
  
“I’ll owl you,” he says. He takes a step back and is gone.  
  
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I have fallen slightly in love with Harry Potter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baz grew up in London and he and his friends used cockney rhyming slang for fun, and he's kept a few of favourites.
> 
> * Hampton Wick = prick (cock)  
> * collar and cuff = puff (effeminate man)
> 
> Edison is named after Edison Cheng, a character from _Crazy Rich Asians_ , and Kelvin is named after Kelvin Yu, the actor and writer. I like the idea of magical Chinese people choosing the names of western Muggle scientists, and it felt like Edison and Kelvin could be brothers. I’ve only borrowed names, no other parts of their likenesses. 
> 
> Draco's owl is named Alya after a star in the Serpens constellation.
> 
> I've made up the names of clubs and pubs for this story and while I'm sure places exist that use the same name, I'm not referring to any specific location and any similarities are coincidental.
> 
> Things I learned while double-checking my work this chapter: Tempus isn't canon. Room dividers aren't called "French screens." "Fu dogs" isn't the correct name for Chinese guardian lions. Thank you, fanfic, ha!
> 
> I am on [tumblr](https://numinousnumbat.tumblr.com/).


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione starts working on Draco's problem, and Harry and Draco decide they're ready for the next step.

To my surprise, Harry owls me at work the next day, Monday.

_HG is looking into the stuff we talked about. HP_

I don’t know how I feel about my problems being spread to strangers, but if I had to trust one person to figure it out, it would probably be Hermione. I wonder how much dark magic she studied during the War, and if any of the collection from the forced Malfoy library cull made it to the Ministry. I spend most of the day thinking about how to respond and come up with:

_Giver her my thanks. DM_

_PS: Drinks soon?_  
  
I have no idea if asking about drinks after you’ve slept together is a step forward or backward. I wish I could ask Mother, but she’s perceptive enough that she would figure out quickly that I was asking about a man, and I can’t tell her that I’m gay because she’d tell Father and Father isn’t on board with such a thing. Duty is to family and carrying on the family name first, love and/or sex is a distant second to him. He’d made that clear to me many times growing up; I suspect he know which way I was leaning well before I did and wanted to direct me the other way. Sorry, Father.  
  
I’m walking home from Gringotts late that evening, and Harry is waiting for me on the same bench where he found me a few weeks ago. He’s been reading a book and jumps up when he sees me.  
  
“Hi,” he says, like it’s normal to wait for someone after work. “You got dinner plans?”  
  
“Not yet,” I say. Am I flirting? I can’t tell.  
  
“What would you say to Chinese food with Hermione, Ron, and me? At the Weasley-Granger house. Hermione has questions and it would be easier in a place where we have some wards.”  
  
“So a working dinner,” I say. “Is the Chinese food good?”  
  
“It's definitely edible,” he says touching my arm, and we’ve Apparated to a bright kitchen. I see Hermione first, still in her Ministry work robes.  
  
“Finally!” she exclaims. “I thought I worked late. Come sit and eat, the warming charms are fading.” She whisks a bowl of apples off the table to make room.  
  
I sit, and Harry sits next to me. Hermione sits across from me, and yells for Ron, who must have been close by as he appears in seconds. “Hiya,” he says to me and Harry. Harry starts passing out plates and opening boxes. It smells great. We pass the boxes around until our plates are full and begin eating. I start with a prawn dumpling; it’s delicious.  
  
“So,” Hermione says picking up a potsticker, “Harry says the Dark Mark might be causing you problems.”  
  
I look around: he’s managed a whole team to work on my problem and the best I’ve done is start some paperwork for his banking problem. I mentally remind myself to check the progress of the report I sent in about his vault. I should probably start the paperwork for Hermione and Ron, too, while I’m at it.  
  
“Yes,” I respond. “Or that’s my best guess. It could be some of the dark magic used during the War has more long-term repercussions than I’m aware of.”  
  
“Can I see?” she asks, grabbing her wand and looking ... thrilled.  
  
I roll my sleeve up. It’s still Harry’s stag with my constellation that Harry had put on me Saturday night. I hold my arm out to Harry to remove the glamour.  
  
“What’s that?” Hermione asks.  
  
Harry responds before I have a chance. “It might have been dangerous for him to be seen with a Dark Mark, so I changed it a bit.” He has my arm resting on one hand and presses his other hand against it. That’s not Finite Incantatem, I don’t know what he did. As the Mark shifts back to its normal form, I suddenly feel exhausted and it’s all I can do to stay upright.  
  
“What spell was that?” Hermione asks, echoing my thoughts.

Harry shrugs. “It was wandless, so I’m not sure.” Hermione looks put out, and Harry looks slightly abashed and continues. “I just thought about what his arm looked like before.”

“Ok,” Hermione says. “How did you change it, to begin with?”

“I just felt for the Dark Mark and changed it in my head and thought the new image at it.” His explanation is terrible, but Hermione is nodding so she must understand how his magic works better than me.  
  
I hadn’t noticed Ron leave, but he’s back with a Pepper-Up and he puts it in front of me. I drink gratefully. “Cheers,” I tell him and he nods back.  
  
“Does your Dark Mark always look like this?” she asks.  
  
I glance down. “Yes, besides Harry doing the glamour on Saturday, it’s looked the same since I received it.”  
  
She is doing a few spells that I’m not familiar with over my arm. “Your mum didn’t take the Mark, did she?” I shake my head. “Is Malfoy still in Azkaban?” she asks. “Er, Lucius Malfoy, obviously. I’d like to do a diagnostic on your Mark and his, since your magic should be similar.”  
  
“He is,” I confirm.  
  
“Are you ok seeing your dad?” Ron asks me.  
  
It’s been a while - we’re not allowed visits or contact - so I only know what Mother passes back and forth. “I am ok with it, but it’s not allowed as part of the terms.” Death Eaters, well those of us that took the Mark, aren’t allowed to associate with other Death Eaters  _in perpetuity_. Being pardoned at my trial didn’t mean that the new laws didn’t apply to me: it meant I didn’t go to Azkaban. I am grateful for that.

Hermione waves her hand. “I can take care of that. When’s good for you?”  
  
I give her a quick overview of my upcoming travel schedule. “If you can make it look Ministry official, Gringotts will allow me time off,” I tell her.  
  
“Not a problem,” she says. “I bet I can get something together by the end of the week.”  
  
She’s like a Niffler on the trail of a shiny object ... You-Know-Who never stood a chance. 

Thanks to the Pepper-Up, I make it through dinner but I am soon flagging. Harry makes our goodbyes and helps me to my feet. “Think about your flat,” he tells me softly and like that we’ve Apparated into my bedroom. I should probably feel embarrassed that I’ve brought him to my bedroom and not some other room, but honestly, I’m too tired to care. He helps me take my shoes off and I lie down and he pulls a blanket over me. A kiss on my forehead and he’s gone.

***

 

As I’m getting ready the next morning, Harry’s stag Patronus comes in, making sure I am awake and ready for work. I debate fire-calling my response, but opt for an owl instead, less needy, I think. Plus, Alya needs the exercise.

I’m tired, but I had enough sleep that I’m not exhausted like the night before. I grab a cappuccino with an extra espresso shot on my way into work.  
  
It’s a long and exhausting week and on Thursday, I receive an official Ministry owl asking for me to be at the Ministry that afternoon. I show my manager, and she tells me to work to lunch and take the rest of the day off.  
  
I arrive at the Ministry promptly at 2 p.m. and Harry is waiting for me in the atrium.  
  
“Don’t you have classes to teach?” I ask.  
  
“Nearly-Headless Nick is overseeing, and I told the students to work on their essays.” He bites his lip. “Hermione wanted me to be here since I’ve a Voldemort connection that she thinks might be important.” He doesn’t point out that his magic is strong enough to counter any dark spell that might be released when Hermione goes mucking about in the magic centred on my forearm.    
  
We take the lift to Basement Level 2 and then head down a hallway. Hermione is waiting for us. “I managed to have Ron and Nigel assigned as Aurors,” she says. “You can talk to your dad, but don’t try to hug or touch him, sorry.”  
  
My heart is pounding, it’s been five years since I’ve seen Father. She opens the door to a small conference room. Father is sitting at a long table, sipping tea. “Draco,” he says smiling broadly. “Good to see you.”  
  
“You, too, Father,” I say, aware of everyone watching us. I’m moments away from letting out a sob and swallow down the lump in my chest. Ron and the man I’m assuming is Nigel are in red Auror robes, standing close to the door. They’re alert, but don’t look like they’re about to hex anyone. Father looks good, older than I remember, but I suppose I do, too. Azkaban doesn't use Dementors anymore, so he’s of sound mind. As sound as he was when they locked him up, I suppose.

I sit where Hermione tells me to, next to Father. She tells us both to put our arms on the table, Marks up. I undo the buttons and roll my sleeve up and put it where she indicated. I look at Father’s Mark and it looks like an old scar, whereas mine looks like it did on the day it was burned into me. I hadn’t realised, but I guess Harry did, which explains the extra protections before we went out.  
  
Father looks at my Mark. “Draco, are you in some sort of trouble?”  
  
“I don’t know,” I say quietly.

“We’ll figure it out,” Hermione says brightly. She proceeds to cast quite a few spells, mostly alternating between us. For the most part, I don’t feel anything but the faint brush of her magic, and her spells are all unfamiliar to me.  
  
“I’m going to have Harry cast some spells,” she says. “If that’s ok.” We both nod. I’m surprised Father is being this easy-going, but I suspect Azkaban is dull and he’s enjoying the change of pace. Mother told me that he was resigned to serving his sentence, and is hoping to get out early for good behaviour.

The other option is that I’m in way more trouble than I realise and he knows it.  
  
Harry starts with Father. It’s another spell I don’t know, Father doesn’t react, just watches with a look of mild curiosity. “It burned when the Dark Lord died, not nearly as bad as when he made it, and I haven’t felt anything since.” Father seems to know the spell or a similar one that Harry is using.  
  
Hermione nods. “It seems that is what happened to most.”  
  
Panic is setting in, making my heart beat faster. “I think I can still feel it,” I whisper. Harry’s moved to me, holding my arm even though I know he doesn’t need to since he didn’t touch Father.  
  
“We’re going to figure this out,” he murmurs to me. He starts casting and it doesn’t feel right, I try and move my arm back to me, but I can’t move it. My arm starts to feel so cold that it hurts. “Harry,” I manage to say and he stops the spell.  
  
Hermione is next to him. “What happened?” she says. I explain best I can. She casts a few spells and my arm starts to feel better and I can move it again. I try to get my panicked breathing under control.  
  
“What’s going on?” Father asks. He sounds more worried than haughty. “Is he ok?”  
  
“I’m ok,” I tell Father.  
  
“It appears the link didn’t dissolve for Draco,” Hermione says. “It's what we suspected based on how his Dark Mark currently looks, so we just confirmed that there is still magic attached to it. I’m going to go over what we did today in a Pensieve, and see if we can narrow down what happened,” she says. “Mr Malfoy, would you be amenable to coming back here as we need you?”  
  
“To help Draco, anything,” he says. I’m trying not to cry; I’ve missed Father so much, and I’m feeling scared and alone.  
  
“Thank you,” I say to him. He puts his hand over mine, and no one stops him. He pulls back. He stands and walks out the door between Ron and Nigel. I haven’t moved. Harry sets tea in front of me as he sits beside me.  
  
“You knew?” I said.  
  
Harry shrugs. “I could feel it at the coffee shop, but I didn’t realise it was more than a, uh, echo, until I did the glamour. I had no idea what it might mean until now. I only knew it wasn’t the same as the other Death Eaters’ Dark Marks.” He’s over-explaining, but I have no reason to blame him for anything. He’s already gone out of his way to help me.  
  
“You were able to get Hermione involved the next day, thank you,” I say.  
  
Hermione is back and sits down with her tea. “Harry told me you have some Apparating problems. And, er, problems in the bedroom.” I should be more embarrassed, but I’m more scared than anything at this moment.

“Yes,” I say.  
  
“Tell me about when you got the Dark Mark,” Hermione asks. Her quill is set to record and is hovering over a blank parchment.

It makes sense to start here, but I wish we didn’t have to. I remind myself that this isn’t anything like when I was detained at the Ministry after the War. “Summer going into sixth year, You-Know-Who had already taken over the Manor. He was angry at Father, for well, you know ... as a punishment, he had me come to the front and kneel before him.” I’ve never spoken about this to anyone, and parts of it are so vivid it might as well be happening now.

“He asked for my arm, but my hands were shaking too badly for me to get my sleeve up. So he had Bellatrix kneel beside me and offer my arm to him. He asked Mother if she approved of his gift to her, and Mother said that I was the Dark Lord’s to do what he pleased with. You-Know-Who cast the spell slowly and when the pain was so bad I tried to move, Bellatrix cast an Immobulus on me. You’d have to ask someone else how long it really was, it felt like hours to me.” Harry and Hermione are both listening intently, Hermione leaning forward in her chair and Harry staring at where I have my arm hiding under the table. “You-Know-Who gave me the task, you know the one. And I went to my room, cast a Silencio and cried.”  
  
“Jesus,” Hermione says, swearing in Muggle. “Why didn’t you talk about this at your trial? Clearly, you never consented to become a Death Eater. There shouldn’t have even been a trial.”

“I was guilty to them for being at the meeting in the first place; they would have blamed whatever else happened on me after. At least this way it was one less thing being written about me.” I know I sound bitter, but I don’t need anyone’s pity.  
  
Hermione is taking notes separately from her recording quill and quickly writes notes into her notebook. “When Voldemort cast the spell, what were you thinking about?” I cringe at her use of his name.  
  
“Mostly about the pain, and a bit about not doing anything stupid. I just wanted to survive.”  
  
“Was it unusual that he cast slowly?” She's barely looking at me as she's writing notes.  
  
"You'd have to ask Father; I didn't see any others.”  
  
“Were you thinking about Harry?” she asks. Blunt that one. Harry shifts uncomfortably.  
  
“No,” I say. “I was doing my best to keep any person I might have had a crush on out of my head. If You-Know-Who or any of the Death Eaters knew I might be homosexual, it would have been used against me, and used against my family.”  
  
Harry smiles and bites his lip to stop it when I say “crush.”  
  
“Harry,” I say, “you don’t win this one because I at least knew I was _gay_.”  
  
Hermione laughs. “I think if Ron and I had thought about it, we might have figured it out. As it was, we were just about as terrible at relationships as Harry.”  
  
"And yet which of us was dating the current Quidditch MVP?" Harry says, looking smug.

"You mean who was the person who made the current Quidditch MVP realise that she was a lesbian? Yes, that was you, Harry." Hermione glances at Harry with a fond look.

"Ginny Weasley is a lesbian?" I ask with some surprise. She's been linked to Oliver Wood a few times in the papers.

"Yup," Harry says happily. "She's dating Knight from the Falcons. I haven't met her but Ron says she's scary." Harry is beaming like that is a good thing.

Hermione looks fondly exasperated and is flipping through her notebook that is full of her handwriting. “Back on subject? Now we do know that the Dark Mark inhibits the making of Patronuses, that’s not a surprise there. The spells today showed that your Dark Mark isn't _transmitting_ any magical energy, so whatever link still exists isn't currently being used." 

I'm really fucking relieved to hear that. Hermione continues, "We'll get to your magical energy in a moment, but you say you’re having erection problems.” She looks at me expectantly. 

“Yes. In the past year or so, it’s been hard to get an erection and if I’m lucky enough to get one, it’s hard to, uh, keep it going.” I remind myself that changing my name and moving to Paris is still a viable option.

“So it wasn’t a problem before the Mark?” she asks.

“No, I would say I was a typical teenager in that regard.”

“Were you in a relationship then?”

“With Blaise. Blaise Zabini.” I clarify although I’m guessing they would know who I was referring to.

Harry looks confused, and I’m guessing he didn’t know that Blaise was gay. “I didn’t know you were together,” Hermione says, confirming my thought about Harry.

“We were discreet,” I say. “Until my father ruined our name and our fortune, I had thought that I would marry a woman and carry on affairs with men. It’s the pureblood way, you know. Blaise and I were practising for that life.”

“But you haven’t told Lucius that you’re gay,” Harry says.

“No,” I say. “He might tell Mother that she should cut off contact with me, and I don’t want to make her choose between him and me.”

“He would do that?” Hermione asks, sounding mortally offended on my behalf. It's nice.

“Father a decade ago would do that, although I don’t know how he would react now.” I’ve thought about how that would play out a million times in my head, and I’m no closer to knowing. 

Hermione checks her notes. “Regarding your relationships, are you the penetrating partner or the one that gets penetrated?”  
  
“I’m a bottom,” I laugh and cover my mouth with my hand. “And I honestly never thought I’d have this conversation with Hermione Granger of all people.”  
  
“Never top?” Harry asks. “I’m a top, but pretty versatile.”  
  
“I’ve never tried, but I guess if I took a potion, I might be able to manage.”  
  
“Cock ring?”

I nod. “Or that. Perhaps with my current problems, both.”  
  
“Anytime you want to try, my arse is yours.” Harry is leaning back in his chair.  
  
“Noted,” I say lightly. I’ve never topped or honestly had the desire to, but it’s about chemistry and what feels right between two people. I think I trust Harry enough to be vulnerable to try something new. It could be fun, right?  
  
“Harry,” Hermione says in a voice I remember very well from our first year together. “Are you sleeping with Malfoy?”  
  
I have the urge to point out that we’re not together and have only slept together once. I keep quiet, perhaps the only good lesson I learned from serving You-Know-Who.

“Maybe?” Harry says in a way that completely says _oh, we're definitely shagging._

Hermione twists her braids up into a large bun on the top of her head as she looks back and forth between us. “Now I have to reconsider everything I thought about what was going on with you and him through six years of school,” she says to Harry.

“But he _was_ up to something, just like I thought!” Harry says, sounding exactly like the schoolboy I remember.

I laugh. This is absurd. 

Hermione gives Harry a look and then glances back at her notes. “Ok, back on subject, did your Dark Mark work the same as everyone else’s during the War?”  
  
I’m relieved that I can stop talking about my cock and my relationship with Harry, whatever that means currently. And I’m damn sure not ready to think about what I want it to mean. I answer her question. “I believe so. A few times we were summoned and it seemed like it was the same for Father and me.”  
  
“And tell me about the final battle.”  
  
“It’s pretty jumbled in my head, you probably know better than me,” I say.   
  
“When Voldemort died, did anything change with your Mark?”  
  
I think back. “I was preoccupied with other things than thinking about it. I don’t remember anything specifically.”

“So you didn’t notice a flare of pain like your father?”

“No,” I say.  
  
“I’ll ask your father at the next interview, and he might know from the others in Azkaban, too,” Hermione says. “Did you notice anything strange about your Mark after the War was over?”

“I didn't.”

“And why do you think that it’s the cause of your current issues?” 

“I suppose it's because I feel tired in the same way I felt tired during the War,” I say. "And now that I know my Mark is acting differently than other people's, I believe I am on the right track." 

“Were the Unforgivables used on you directly?” Hermione asks. 

I squirm. “Yes. Imperious. Cruciatus a few times.”

“Were those by Voldemort?”

I still hate hearing his name, and no one uses it more casually than Harry and his friends. “No, I wasn’t important enough for that.”

“Were you ever bitten or scratched by a werewolf?”

“No,” I say. Hermione’s quill is flying across the parchment.

“Did you ever take an unknown potion or a potion that could have been tampered?”

“I don’t think so,” I say.

“When did you notice the decrease in your magical energy?”

“I don’t think it ever came back all the way,” I say. “I wasn’t allowed my wand until after my trial. Then I started at Gringotts, so I was stressed and anxious about that. It wasn’t until a couple of years ago that I realised that I had been waiting for my magic to come back to full power and it wasn’t happening.”

“And you’ve been to the healers?”

“Yes, they agreed that my magical energy was low, but didn’t know why.”

Hermione nods grimly. “And when presented with a mystery, they just write it off and don’t bother to investigate.”

I hold back a smile at how Hermione-like Hermione is being.

“Have you been to the Healers about your erection problems?”

“I didn’t bother with them again.”

“And that’s the problem with the wizard medical field,” Hermione says primly. “Have those issues caused you problems?”

“Besides the primary issues, everything else is not directly related.”

“What does that mean?” She glances at me; she is relentless. It’s a good quality to have, but that doesn’t make me appreciate it when she’s using it against me.

 “I’ve had some problems extracting myself from situations where men thought my performance issues were a reflection of their skills.”

“Oh,” Hermione says. “Boyfriends?”

“Hookups,” I correct. “I’ve been told I have a very punchable face,” I say.

“You do,” Hermione says brightly. “Harry, is there anything strange to you about Draco’s magic? Or anything else I should know about his Dark Mark?”

Harry is slouching in his chair like he owns the place. “I think I’ve told you everything I’ve noticed.”

“And what’s that?” I ask, very curious.

Harry looks at Hermione for help, but she flicks her hand at him. “I said,” he scratches the back of his head, leaving his hair sticking up all over the place, “our magic is compatible, you’re really easy to Apparate with. As easy as Hermione and Ron, and we’ve been friends for ages.”

Hermione jumps in. “I said it was probably because we all learned magic at the same time at the same place.”

“And I said that it wasn’t the same with Seamus and Dean, and I was closer to them than you.” Harry shrugs. “My magic has been strange since the War, though.”

“To put it mildly,” Hermione says with a roll of her eyes. She flips forwards a few pages in her notebook. “Draco, you were the youngest to have a Mark. You also were the only one helping our side. Besides your mum, but she never took the Mark, so that’s not helpful here.” She stares into space for a few moments, tapping the quill against her cheek. “I can check the court records, but you weren’t the closest to Voldemort when he died - there were plenty of other Death Eaters around - so I don’t know that physical location had anything to do with it. Although, who knows what magic the Forbidden Forest added to the mix. And we were on Hogwarts grounds, it might have recognised you as a student and protected you in some way, so I’ll get with McGonagall and maybe Pomfrey and see about the protection magic.” She taps her quill against her cheek a few more times. “Would you mind if we looked at when you got the Mark in a Pensieve, and we’ll ask your dad, too, to do a comparison.”  
  
“I don’t mind,” I say. “But not today, if that’s ok.”  
  
“Sure,” Hermione says. “I want to look at the spells we did today first, anyway.”  
  
“Me and Draco are going to head out?” Harry says.  
  
“Yeah, if you guys think of anything or notice anything or think of something else to try, just send me an owl. My initial guess is that when Voldemort died, for some reason Draco’s Mark ties weren’t severed like the others, so we just need to figure out _why_ that happened and then that should give us a place to start figuring out _how_ to fix it.”  
  
“Will do,” Harry says. "See you later." He touches my arm and Apparates us out of the Ministry and onto my bed.  
  
“I can’t tell if you’re showing off,” I say, “or if you’re lazy.”

He laughs. “It’s probably both.” He flops back onto my pillow. “I should probably stick around and make sure you’re ok.”

I lay down next to him. “I’m fine, but you can stay anyway. When do you need to leave to get back to Hogwarts?”

“Oh, 8:59 for my 9:00 o’clock class,” he says.

“I guess if you can Apparate out of the Ministry, I shouldn’t be surprised that you can Apparate into Hogwarts.”  
  
He looks very pleased with himself. “Minerva said I could only do it if I told students it was because of loads of revising, and if they revise long enough, they’ll be able to do that, too.”  
  
“Do they ask if Hermione can? That’s a big flaw in your plan, everyone knows she was the brains of your group.” From what I can tell Harry is hard to offend these days, especially when it’s part of complimenting his friends.  
  
“I’ll give a hundred House points to the first student that notices.”  
  
Harry gets dinner for us and we listen to a Quidditch match, my feet in his lap. I yawn embarrassingly early, but he says he’s ready for bed, too. I offer pyjamas, but he says he’s a hot sleeper and prefers naked if I don’t mind. I have no desire for sex, so I put on an old pair of flannel bottoms, trying to indicate to him that I’m not in the mood. I wonder if I should stock up on potions and whatnot so I can have sex. If this goes on for at least one month, I tell myself, I’ll see what Harry wants to do. Or maybe Hermione will figure something out. I hope Harry can be patient.  
  
We get into bed together, and Harry manhandles me into little spoon position. He wasn’t kidding about being a hot sleeper, and I kick the blankets down to the bottom of the bed. Our conversation starts having longer and longer pauses and I fall asleep listening to him talk about funny essays his students have turned in.

***

  
I awaken early, probably an hour before my alarm, if I’m guessing correctly from the amount of light coming through the curtains. And apparently, the benefit to sleeping next to someone is an unexpected erection. I’m torn between slipping out of bed and having a quick wank in the loo or starting something with Harry. Naked men aren’t in my bed often and I feel like this is a chance that I should be taking. I shift a bit and realise Harry’s cock is hard and pressing against me. Well then, decision made. Blowjob seems too forward, so I reach behind me put my hand around his cock. He groans and pushes into my hand. Good sign. I hear something zip past my ear and smack into Harry’s hand; he’s wandlessly summoned lube. He pulls down my pyjamas and I let go of his cock for a moment to help and kick them off. He slides fingers down my arse crack and groans, “Can I?” at the back of my head.  
  
“Please,” I tell him. I hike my top leg up to give him better access. He quickly stretches me open with his fingers while planting kisses on the back of my neck. “Come on, come on,” I tell him desperately, and I hear a condom being opened. He slides in slowly and perfectly and before I’m completely used to the fullness, he’s grabbed my top leg and changed the angle so he’s going deeper. Merlin, this feels so good. I pause him for a moment so he can give me some lube, and I tug at my own cock at the same rhythm he's sliding in and out of me. His hand joins mine and in no time I'm coming over my stomach, and he keeps sliding in and out until I'm finished and boneless and no longer holding my leg up. He slides out of me. 

“Can I come on you?” he asks breathlessly.

“Anywhere,” I say. He kneels to roll the condom off and pushes my shoulder so I’m laying on my back and I wonder if he’s going to come on my face which isn’t my favourite, but he starts stroking himself over my stomach and I miss watching his face as I watch his come joins mine on my lower stomach. It’s hot and wet where it hits and I’m already thinking about showering it off, in a minute or twenty when I feel like I can move again.

Harry lays downs next to me and we’re touching all the way down our sides. After a minute or two, he manoeuvres himself onto his side and slings his arm over me, avoiding the come on my stomach. "Do you want me to Vanish that?" he asks. 

"In a minute," I tell him. I feel dirty and sticky and well-fucked in the best of ways right now.

“I love everything about condoms except, you know, wearing them,” Harry says wrinkling his nose a bit.

I laugh, I know that feeling well. “I have my last health check on my desk somewhere, and I haven’t been with anyone since.”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?” Harry asks, waggling his hips in such a way that I can feel his cock pressed against me.

“Yeah,” I say.

“I’ll ask Poppy to write one for me,” Harry says. “Well about me for you.”

“And then no more condoms,” I say.

“If you’re ok with that,” Harry says.

“I am,” I tell him and he kisses my shoulder. I want to ask how many people he’s been with, how many has he gone monogamous with, if we’re proper boyfriends, but I stay silent.

***

  
Work, quite frankly, is a bitch for the next few days. Eddie and Kelvin stop in and it takes only a few minutes to get everything sorted for them with getting Kelvin's name changed. I check on the paperwork I submitted for Harry, and it was sent to the Security Analysis Support Team, which is something, I suppose. I send a note to that team to see if we can do something about Hermione and Ron at the same time.

Harry has to catch up on marking that he’s been avoiding and I’ve spent most of the week in Dover, so we have plans to see each other Saturday night. Eddie invites me shopping for Saturday morning, and although I had planned to catch up on some of my work, I’m knackered and need to wait until I can give it my full attention. Work can wait, shopping will be a good distraction.

I meet Eddie in Diagon Alley, he greets me with a _Darling!_ , a kiss on each cheek, and a latte. I take a sip and manage not to splutter. “Spiked, I wasn’t expecting.”

Eddie laughs. “I’ve been told by many reputable sources that no one should shop with me sober.”

“I will heed their advice, then,” I say and take another sip. Eddie is in a grand mood.

“What are we looking for today?” Eddie grabs my arm and we walk down the street together.

“I want something for tonight, and then I wouldn’t mind picking up a few things for work. You?”

“Tonight for sure, and something for Feilong’s opening, if I find something special.”

“Special expensive or special unique?” I tilt my head and grin at him. 

“I’m looking for something that says I’m a slut but you can trust my tea is top notch.” He sticks his arse out and mimes sipping tea and I laugh.

“I’ll keep my eye out.” We’re ambling down the pavement and I’m glancing at store displays but nothing has caught my eye so far.

“Speaking of, now that Gringotts has approved our loan and you helped us sort our accounts, we’re looking for someone to manage our shop.” He pauses and as I’m about to say something banal, he says, “We - Kelvin and I - wondered if _you_ ’d like to run Feilong.”

I stop dead in my tracks. “Me?”

“No, the other twink that I’m shopping with. Yes, you.” Eddie squeezes my arm for emphasis.

“I don’t know the first thing about running a tea shop.” 

“We need someone reliable and gay, and you’re both. The rest is easy.”

I’m honestly stunned. “I’ll think about it,” I say. “Thank you for the generous offer.”

“It’s a good excuse to live in Hogsmeade, near a certain handsome Professor that teaches Defense and the Dark Arts.” Eddie stops and looks at me in the face.

“Oh, Harry and I aren’t anywhere near that point,” I mumble.

“Aren’t you? You’re acting all _monogamous_.” He says the word the same way my mother would say _designer knockoff_. I don't mention we are working on that monogamous thing, either.

“We have a lot of history to work through.”

“As long as the fucking is good.”

“The fucking is great,” I assure him.

"Mmmhmmm," Eddie says, but thankfully drops the subject. We keep walking and I’m thinking about running the shop. Would I like it? Would I be good at it? Why me?

Eddie declares that Diagon is too boring and asks if we should go Muggle. I agree and we slip out through a side street. Eddie wants to start with shoes - “I build my outfits from the ground up like a Muggle construction company," he says - and we head to a place he knows.

We’ve been walking a few minutes when I remember my wand. “Fuck,” I mutter. “Wand.”

Eddie stops and looks at me. “You forgot your wand?”

“No, I’m not allowed to have it around Muggles.” I don’t know how the Ministry keeps tabs on me, I should probably turn myself in before I'm dragged away by Aurors, how embarrassing. 

“That is the most asinine thing I’ve ever heard. Hand it over, I’ll keep it for you.” Eddie is holding his hand out to me.

“What?”

“Your Ministry says that you can’t have a wand, but they didn’t say that I can’t have two wands.” His hand is still out and I find myself moving my hand towards my wand to give it to him.

“That might be the letter of the law, but not the intent," I try to argue.

“Then they should write another law. We’re not here to hex Muggles: we’re here to buy shoes.” I make my decision and hand him my wand and he slides it into his coat.

“It’s in my left pocket, grab it if we get into trouble.” He shoots me a grin. “Grab it if we’re not in trouble, if you like.”

“Please don’t get me into trouble,” I say and rub at the headache that is forming at my temples.

“I’m saving all of my trouble for tonight, don’t you go putting frown lines on that gorgeous face of yours.” He grabs my arm again and pulls me down the pavement.

“Here we go,” he says as we’ve arrived at the shoe shop. I purchase a new pair of black loafers, and he gets a red pair with a bit of heel, assuring me that heels are necessary for hanging out with me and Harry.

We head to a few clothing stores next, and Eddie has me try on a few things that are so far outside of my comfort zone that I can’t believe I’m doing it. One was just a set of leather straps, and he makes a small squeal when I step out of the room to show him. I'm debating a black shirt that is very slightly see-through.

“Do you want to know my opinion or Harry’s?” he asks, after having me turn in a circle.

“Yours, Harry is many things, but _fashionable_ is not one of them,” I tell him.

Eddie nods at me. “I say that shirt is perfect: it’s sexy and it’s still you enough to not be a costume.”

I blush and stammer. “Thank you,” I finally manage. Father would hate it; it's my new favourite shirt.

“Enough about you, twinkface, it’s time to talk about me,” Eddie says. He’s tried on about a hundred vests, and they’re all laughably long on his short torso.

“The red one or the pink one, and a bit of a transfiguration,” I say.

“It’s not my fault that everything in this country is designed for giraffes like you and Harry,” he fake grumbles. We pay with Muggle money and hit a few more stores. I luck out and find a few work shirts and a pair of very tight trousers that Eddie says make my arse look good.

We head back to Diagon and I offer to buy us drinks. I was thinking coffee, but Eddie has a different idea, and takes us to a pub and orders us both a Bloody Mary. It’s barely noon and we’re two of the few patrons.

Eddie has just disappeared to the loo when I realise that I should have been keeping a better eye on my surroundings. An older man slams his mostly empty glass onto our table.

“Fucking Draco Malfoy, as I live and breathe,” he says.

I look towards the bar but the barman is nowhere to be found. My wand is still in Eddie’s pocket, and Eddie just left. If I can stall for a few minutes, hopefully someone will be along to help me, or at least get me to St Mungo's.

“Sorry, I don’t think I’ve made your acquaintance,” I say dumbly.

“ _Made your acquaintance_ ,” he mimics back to me, doing a piss-poor impression of my accent. I cringe. He’s tapping my table with his wand. “It’s because of you that my cousin’s neighbour died, Mr Handswallow or Halfswan or something. My cousin said he was a good neighbour, quiet and kept to himself. Didn’t deserve to die by your lot.”

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” I say. Eddie is still not back. I wonder if I can yell loud enough to get the barman’s attention. I should have been working on my wandless magic.

He points his wand towards my head and I try not to panic. “I should Adavera Kedavra you right here.”

“I don’t think I’m worth an Unforgivable,” I say. I spot something out of the corner of my eye and I hope to Merlin it’s Eddie. “Maybe a Bat-Bogey hex, those are fun aren’t they?”

“I should just slash you a hundred times and watch you bleed to death,” he says.

“That sounds … effective,” I say. Not as effective as Sectumsempra, thank you, Harry.

Eddie steps forward with his wand drawn. “Step away from Draco and I won’t kill you.”

The man sneers at Eddie. “I’d like to see you fucking try.”

Eddie shouts something in Chinese, Mandarin, I think, and the man lowers his wand and takes a step back. “If I see either of you again, I’ll fucking kill you,” the man spits.

“That won’t do,” Eddie says. “Obliviate. You came to this pub and drank so much you pissed yourself and went home without incident hoping no one saw you.”

“I’m so embarrassed,” the man says. “This has never happened before.”

“Hurry and leave,” Eddie says and the man does. I slump back in my chair as the door closes behind the man.

“Thank you,” I say. Eddie slides my wand back to me over the table.

“Sorry, should have remembered,” he said. “But I wasn’t expecting you to find trouble in the time it took me to use the WC.”

“I wasn’t either,” I say.

“Does this whole about to get murdered thing happen often?” he asks.

“Less often lately?” I offer. I feel stupid and weak.

He shoots me a look of sympathy. “Ready to get out of here?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’ll floo back to mine,” I say.

“Nope,” Eddie says. “You’ve had a fright. You can come with me to Baize or I’ll take you to Harry’s.”

“I’m fine,” I insist.

“Baize or Harry’s,” Eddie repeats, arms folded as he taps his foot a few times.

“Harry’s,” I decide.

Eddie downs his drink and then mine and then grabs me around the waist and we Apparate to Harry’s living room in front of the fireplace.

“Harry!” Eddie calls. “I brought you your stray.”

Harry pops his head from the kitchen. “Hiya, you two are early.” He glances at the clock on the wall. “Nine hours early.”

“Draco about got himself hexed, so I’m dropping him off before I meet up with Kelvin to do boring inventory things.”

“Hexed?” Harry strides over to me and examines me at close range.

“It was my fault,” I say. “I forgot Eddie had my wand is all. Luckily he came back before anything happened.”

“Did you kill them?” Harry asks Eddie. “I have friends in the Ministry that can make that go away.”

“Just an Obliviate,” Eddie says. “He’ll only remember the sensation of piss dripping down his leg.”

“You made him urinate?” I ask.

“Too complicated," Eddie says with a toss of his shoulder. "Water charm combined with a warming charm directed at the crotch does the trick.”

“Good one,” Harry says, nodding. “I might borrow that for class.”

“Don’t name it after me,” Eddie says. “Don’t want the Yang name associated with piss, you know?”

Harry laughs and after a hug, Eddie Apparates to Baize.

Harry turns his attention back to me. “Bath?” he asks.

“I’m fine, I didn’t want to interrupt - Eddie insisted - and I should probably head to mine for a bit.” I’m rambling, my mouth is making words before my brain knows what is happening.

Harry gives me a look. “You’re pale and shaking. A bath?”

My teeth start to chatter, and I realise I probably shouldn’t be alone. “A bath would be nice.” Harry summons a chair for me to sit on, and then kneels in front of me to take off my shoes, then stands to pull me up.

“Lavender again?”

“That would be nice,” I say. He started the bath when I wasn’t paying attention and when we enter the bathroom, he adds the potion. “Solo or company?”

“Stay please,” I say. I’m glad I don’t have to ask.

“Why did Eddie have your wand?” he asks once we’re arranged in the tub.

“We went Muggle for shopping, so I gave it to him to hold so I wasn’t arrested. I forgot until it was too late. Not that I could have done much.”

“That’s unlike you,” Harry says. He’s running his hands up and down my arms, and I’ve stopped shaking for the most part.

“Yeah, won’t happen again,” I say. 

“I'm glad Eddie was there today,” Harry says as he presses a kiss to the side of my cheek.

I sigh. “I like Eddie," I say. "He offered me a job today.” I don’t realise I’ve said it until it’s out.

“A job?” Harry had been murmuring, but this he says with some surprise.

“Yes, to run Feilong when they open.”

Harry’s silent for a minute. I turn to look at him and he looks stunned and happy. He smiles when we make eye contact. “Sorry, I was thinking about how nice it would be to see you during the week.”

I drop my head back on his shoulder. “It’s another point in the yes column.”

“What’s in the no column?”

“I don’t know anything about running a shop, a significant portion of Hogsmeade has good reason to want me dead, and I prefer coffee to tea.”

Harry laughs into the back of my head.

***

 

After our bath, I had a nap and then Harry and I went out for a late lunch. It was nice, although I couldn’t help but think about all of the work I should be doing.

Harry had also shown me his health report from Madame Pomfrey. “I can’t wait to stick my cock in your arse tonight,” he’d said, kissing me and pressing his hand against my cock through my trousers. I kissed him back and ran my hands through his hair. We were feeling the same, then.

We’re all meeting at a gay pub, Mrs King. Harry and I have a cocktail at his place and then he Apparates us there. The Yangs have beat us, and have taken over the chairs by the fireplace, bless.

Kelvin has brought a friend, maybe more than a friend based on how they are snogging. Takumi is handsome and has dyed or glamoured his hair into a mohawk with purple tips.

“Japanese, Mother will be scandalised, I hope he’s a keeper,” Eddie had whispered to Harry and me before we sat down. 

After Seamus and Dean arrive, Eddie proceeds to tell everyone about my embarrassing morning. “And I knew Draco was a high maintenance bitch, but I didn’t think I’d have to save him from drunk bar patrons before lunchtime,” he finishes.

“I would have let him get hexed,” Dean says, shooting me a wolfish grin. I volunteer for the next round of drinks so I can leave for a moment. 

We’ve not been there terribly long, just over an hour or so, when Harry asks if I’m ready to go. Kelvin and Takumi have already left, they were looking for a place to go dancing.

Baz is coming back to the table with shots for him and Eddie. “Are you wankers really leaving this early?” Baz asks.

“Long week,” Harry says. I yawn for effect.

Baz gives a searching look at both of our faces. “Hey, Eddie, guess who asked my opinion on flavoured lube a couple of days ago. And had a 'none of your business, Baz' appointment with the nurse the same day.”

“Would that be our lame friend Harry who is leaving the pub before it closes with the white twink?” Eddie asks. He and Baz down their shots.

When Eddie doesn’t get what Baz is implying, Baz spells it out. “I think Harry’s going fuck Draco without a condom.”

When we both look guilty, Eddie points at both of us. “Oh. My. God! That makes you gay married!” he exclaims. He points his wand at the ceiling and hundreds of flower petals rain down. “This is the most important night of your relationship,” he says seriously. “Don’t fuck it up.”

“Forget almost dying, this is the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to me today,” I say. Harry is practically vibrating and pulls me away from our group so we can Apparate out.

"Have fun and don't do anything I wouldn't do," Baz calls out after us. Harry flips two fingers at him as wraps his arms around me Apparates us back to Harry's flat. 

***

 

Harry lands us in front of his fireplace and we slide off our shoes. He cradles my face between his hands and smiles at me before he leans in and kisses me. I kiss him back and can't help but use my tongue, which he reciprocates. I slide his jacket off his shoulders and he lets go of me to let it drop to the floor. He’s guiding me back to his bed as I’m unbuckling my belt and he pushes my trousers and pants down and I step out of them. I pull his shirt off from the bottom and toss it to the ground and then I take my shirt off and let it fall to the floor, too. Harry casts a wandless warming charm at the bed and I climb onto the bed and happily fall back onto the warm blankets.

Harry takes off the rest of his clothes and joins me, lube in hand. I pull him on top of me and he’s already hard.

“Do you want your arse to smell like strawberries or cherries?” He grins at me, he looks so happy. I probably look exactly the same; I feel ... giddy.

“Strawberries, please,” and before I’m finished, he’s on his knees and squirting lube generously on my cock and letting it slide down. He goes down on me with gusto, mouth and fingers and he feels really great, and my cock is slowly getting more erect.

He slides up at one point, wiping lube from his lips with the back of his hand. “Your cock is the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth,” he says and glides back down. He also adds a couple fingers to my hole, and I’m finding it really funny that my arse smells of strawberries right now. I’m most of the way hard when he lifts off my cock. “Can I fuck you now?” he asks. 

“Yes,” I tell him and he surges up and kisses me and I taste strawberries and he leans back and I pull my knees up and he presses the tip of his cock against my opening and huffs out a small breath. “It feels so good,” he says and he presses in and we make eye contact and I nod at him and he’s gently working his way in with small thrusts and I shift my knees back farther and he’s all the way in and biting his lip.

“Wow,” he says dazed, and he starts making longer thrusts and then he leans forward to kiss my jawline and I feel him thrust three or four times almost too hard and he moans into my shoulder. He stills and mutters “Fuck!” towards the bed.

I poke him in the head so he’ll look at me. “Seriously?" I ask.

He pulls his head up and his eyes are still glazed. "Uhhh," he says. 

This is hilarious. "I’m taking it as a compliment that you came so fast,” I say.

“Merlin, yes,” he says. He slides out of me and flops down next to me. “Do you want me to finish you off?”

“How soon will you be ready for a second round?” I ask. I pull the blanket over the top of the both of us.

“Twenty minutes,” he says. He throws his arm over his face. “Maybe thirty.”

“I’ll wait,” I say. I’m not upset, the whole situation is funny. It’s the closest recreation to my first time - with Blaise - than anything else I’ve done since.

He turns over and manhandles me into a snuggle and we lay together for a bit. “Sorry,” he says eventually. “I didn’t know how intense that was going to be without a condom.”

“First time?” I ask, suddenly very curious.

“Yeah, well with a guy." We have our legs intertwined and he's using my shoulder as a pillow. 

“So who was your first guy with a condom?” I ask. This conversation is easier when we don't have to look at each other, I think.

“Baz,” he says. 

“Not Charlie?” I ask, remembering that he told me Charlie had helped him figure out he was into men.

“He offered, but I needed to break up with Ginny first ... I owed her that.”

“And then Baz offered?”

“He actually had assumed I was gay when we met. I told him that ‘I have a girlfriend’ and he said, ‘I didn’t ask if you had a girlfriend, I asked if you were into dudes, mate'.”

“And then you went out with Charlie,” I continue for him.

“Yeah, so I went out with Charlie, broke things off with Ginny, and went back to Baz and said, ‘Actually, really into dudes, let’s go to the clubs some time’ and we did. And then I had no idea what I was doing and I didn't like the idea of just having a one night stand, and Baz offered to be my first and it was ... good ... friendly, not romantic.” Imagine casually offering to be Harry Potter's first fuck, Merlin.

“How did you meet the Yangs?” I don't know why I haven't bothered to find out until now.

He laughs. “So Baz went to Baize to buy something and while he was there he asked Eddie out. Oh god, don’t tell them I told you this, but anyway they were having an ok time on their date or whatever - well, Baz says it was brilliant and Eddie said he was dying of boredom, so you know - and there was some hot dude they were both checking out and they decided to ask him out and he said yes to both of them and they had sex in the club toilet. And somehow they became best friends and now we’re all friends.”

I can almost picture it. “Honestly, if I didn’t know them, I wouldn’t believe it," I say. We keep talking for a bit and after not particularly long, I can see Harry’s cock starting join in the festivities, so to speak. I offer to go down on him, but he says there’s no way he’d last.

I roll over and get on my hands and knees. Harry warms up lube in his hand and gently opens me back up. “I never thought you’d let yourself be this messy,” Harry tells me. I assume he’s found the come he left in me.

“You owe me one bath.”

“Deal,” he says. He moves around and I feel the tip of his cock at my hole, and he gently slides in and I can hear his breath catch a few times as the sensations overwhelm him. He starts thrusting and I fall to my elbows to get an angle I like better. He fucks me so good for so long, I’ve just about forgotten my name.

He asks me to get on my back and I grab his headboard to brace myself. “Hard,” I tell him. And he obliges. He fucks me until my head is in another place and the only thing I can think about is how good it feels. He kisses bruises on my neck that he'll have to heal in the morning. He starts to stroke my cock, but his hands are rough and I move his hands out of the way so I can do it myself. We come almost at the same time, kissing and kissing and kissing.

It takes me a few minutes to come back down and when I look over at where he's landed, he looks smug and well-fucked. I daresay I look the same.

“That was the ... best,” he says groggily.

I have to agree. I don't have the words at the moment, so I just thread my fingers through his, and he gives my hand a squeeze. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "Knight" that Ginny is dating is a reference to Hilary Knight, the awesome ice hockey player.
> 
> I am on [tumblr](https://numinousnumbat.tumblr.com/).


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione keeps working on Draco's Dark Mark problem and Draco tries ecstasy for the first time.

It’s Friday night and Harry had met me after I finished work at Gringotts to Apparate us back to his flat.

“Do you want takeaway?” he asks me while we're snogging on his bed.  

“You should take me to dinner,” I tell him and he proceeds to suck and bite what will probably turn into a bruise into the base of my neck. He pulls back to admire his work.

“Like a proper date?” he asks.

“Yes,” I tell him. “But it’s unfortunately too late to get reservations anywhere decent.”

He rolls his eyes at me. “Get ready, I have an idea.”

“It’s probably not even 6,” I say. “Much too early for a civilised dinner." 

“That means it’s almost 7 in Paris and if you hurry, we’ll have time for a glass of wine before dinner.”

“Paris?” I say. “What do you know about Paris?”

He looks amused. “I know you love it and I know I can Apparate us there, so get moving.”

An impromptu dinner in Paris sounds great. “That sounds … ok.” He gives me a look. “Fine, it sounds perfect. Can I borrow a shirt or we stop by mine?” I’ve been wearing the same suit for over twelve hours.

Harry tosses me a Gryffindor t-shirt from his wardrobe because he thinks he’s funny. I cast a few transfigurations, including turning some of the threads from red to silver, and make it into a presentable shirt.

Harry puts on a black button up with a mandarin collar. “Did Eddie buy that for you?” I ask, feeling the thick material on the sleeve. It's precisely Eddie's taste.

“Yeah,” Harry says. “Birthday last year.” 

I nod, satisfied with his choice. We put our shoes on and he Apparates us to Paris as easily as he Apparates us anywhere. Show off. We should have been doing this weeks ago.

“Paris!” Harry says with an acceptable French accent. He’s brought us to a small alleyway and I can hear the sounds of traffic just beyond. We walk out of the alley and onto a bustling street, the 6th arrondissement if I had to guess. We wander until I see a small cafe that looks promising. They do have a table and the waiter shows us to a table in the corner. I order a bottle of Merlot for the two of us.

The wine is great and Harry looks handsome and our feet are touching under the table and I realise I’m happy. We’re on our second glass when Hermione’s otter Patronus finds us. Harry cast something wandlessly with a flick of his hand and I’m assuming it’s Disillusionment or similar.

“Any chance you and Draco could come to Hogwarts?” the otter says in Hermione’s voice. “I have a lead on the protection spells.” Harry looks at me, and I want to say no, but this is for me and it would be selfish to make everyone cater to me just because I want to enjoy a glass of wine.

“It’s ok with me if it’s ok with you,” I say. Harry leaves a few Muggle bills on the table and we hurry out and duck into the first alley we find. Harry grabs me around the waist and Apparates us to McGonagall’s office.

Hermione is still in her Ministry robes and Professor McGonagall is wearing her black work robes, and Harry and I are obviously on a date. Hermione keeps glancing at Harry, who looks uncomfortable and takes a couple of steps away from me. I wish we had just ordered in.

“Harry,” McGonagall says nodding at him and then says, “Mr Malfoy,” as she reaches out her hand, “it’s been a while.”

“It has, good to see you, Professor,” I say rotely, shaking her hand back, forgetting she’s been the Headmistress for years now.

She claps her hands together once. “We should catch up, but unfortunately time is of the essence; Hermione, do you want to fill them in?”

Hermione is still giving Harry a strange look but switches into Granger mode. “Right, ok. So I was able to talk Firenze today, and he mentioned that some of the magic of the Forbidden Forest is moon-based, meaning it ebbs and flows with the phases of the moon. Today is the closest to the moon phase from the Final Battle, and I thought we could head to the Forest and see what we could find tonight, so we don’t have to wait another month to get similar conditions.”

That makes a certain kind of sense. I glance over at Harry and I can see him taking in the information, he nods slightly at Hermione.

“Have you had a chance to look into the protection spells that Hogwarts has?” I ask.

“We started,” Ron says, “but it’s a bloody mess.” Harry laughs and McGonagall gives him a sharp look. Ron shrugs and keeps going. “There are spells laid down over other spells going back centuries, and honestly some of them should cancel each other out, but it’s going to take a long time to sort it out.” 

“One interesting spell looks like a mid 16th-century addition that specifically wards students from mishaps involving cannons,” Hermione says excitedly and then shakes her head. “But we can discuss those later. Let’s head to the Forest for now.”  Harry, Hermione, and Ron head to the door.

“We’re just going to go poke around the Forbidden Forest?” I say. “Can Gryffindors pretend to make a plan?”

McGonagall smiles fondly at us. “Mr Malfoy makes a good point.”

“Ron and I know some Auror spells, and Hermione knows the rest,” Harry says.

Merlin. The saviour of the wizarding world, everyone.

“Hermione and Ron, you two get the map from Hagrid’s, and we’ll meet you there,” McGonagall requests. They both nod, and head out the door. 

McGonagall waits a beat or two after the door closes behind them. “If you two are going to pretend that you’re not seeing each other” - I can hear the quotes around “seeing each other,” she knows we’re fucking, this is mortifying - “Mr Malfoy probably shouldn’t wear transfigured Gryffindor shirts.” She gives us a sly smile.

Harry stares at McGonagall, eyes wide; my heart is hammering away. “We are dating,” he says. He looks at me and I nod. 

“And I take it Ms Granger and Mr Weasley are unaware?” McGonagall asks. 

“They know,” Harry says looking slightly confused.  

“They are unaccustomed to seeing Harry dressed like he’s going to dinner and not a Quidditch practice,” I explain.

“Oh,” Harry says glancing down. “But you don’t seem surprised,” he says to McGonagall.

A very complicated look crosses McGonagall’s face. “Not as such,” she says, which says volumes to me. “If Professor Kapoor isn’t aware of your romantic leanings, he might be a good place to start?” she suggests. “When you’re ready, of course.”

I bite my lip to keep from smiling. “Baz is aware,” I tell her. I need to see if Harry still has that invisibility cloak of his and go sit in on one of Baz’s classes because I cannot picture him as Professor Kapoor in the slightest.

“Great,” she says brightly. “On to the Forbidden Forest, then.”

We walk out together, and Ron and Hermione meet us halfway and Hermione directs us into the woods. I’ve never been a fan of the Forest, not traipsing around it like a Gryffindor.  

“If it’s too much, I’ll apparate us out,” Harry says to me quietly.

I hate being this transparent. “I’m fine,” I lie.

Hermione leads us into a clearing, checking a hand-drawn map.

“Here we are,” she says brightly, it sounds forced. Maybe they don’t want to be here as much as me. Harry is looking around.

“More this way,” he says pointing down the path.

Hermione is staying put. “I consulted three Ministry reports, Hagrid, and Firenze.” She is stubbornly looking at him and stomps her foot slightly.

“I think I know where I died,” Harry says in that dry tone of his.

“Hermione can do the spells here, and Harry can do them over there,” Ron says. Ron is the underappreciated member of their trio for sure.

Hermione starts casting in the middle of the clearing that she’s marked on her notes, and Harry moves on to where he thinks he should go. I don’t want Harry to be alone and quickly catch up to him. 

“It’s weird being here,” he says. “Does this look right to you?”

I look around and all I see are trees. “No fucking idea,” I tell him, not that I would know anyway.

He looks around once more and starts casting. Ron’s caught up with us and volunteers to keep notes, bless, I hadn’t thought to do so myself. I’m half paying attention to Harry, half pacing and looking around. I feel uneasy.

Every so often Ron or Harry comments on a spell, and Ron makes a few suggestions to Harry but for the most part, all I hear is the leaves rustling in the breeze and all I see is the faint light from Harry’s spells. 

Harry finishes, Ron shrinks the parchment he’s been keeping notes on, and we all head back down the path to where Hermione and McGonagall are working.

Hermione is in her element and looks elated.

“Anything?” she asks Harry after finishing the spell she was on. 

“Ron took notes, but nothing jumped out at me as being important,” Harry says.

“Same here, we’ll have to think about how the spells interact with each other, and I have a list from the Ministry reports about what spells were used on both sides, and then we can check for interactions,” Hermione says. She looks to McGonagall and McGonagall nods her acceptance of the plan and Hermione beams.

“I want to go." I'm whinging, but I don't care at this moment.

“We’ll meet you in the Great Hall,” Harry says to everyone and mercifully Apparates us away.

The Great Hall is empty at this time of night as we’re well past curfew by now. A House Elf pops up and Harry requests tea and hot chocolate. We sit at the Ravenclaw table, neutral territory.

“Are you ok?” he asks, like he doesn’t have more reason to hate the Forbidden Forest than me.

“I will be,” I say. “McGonagall didn’t know you were playing for the other team?” It’s a change in subject, but I’m curious.

He sighs. “It never came up?”

The House Elf pops up with a hot chocolate for me, the way I liked it when I was a student here and I feel a wave of nostalgia for this place. It’s hard to reconcile a place that has your best and your worst memories.

Hermione, Ron, and Professor McGonagall have made it back and we straighten up and move away from each other as they sit across from us. Hermione pulls out the parchment with her notes and the one with Harry's notes and starts comparing the two.  

“What’s Redigendum Humorem?” Hermione says murmuring to herself.

“It’s a plant protection spell against funguses,” I say. All four of them look at me with a bit of surprise. “What? Mother uses them for her orchids.”

Hermione writes a note next to it. “Not likely to be that one, then,” she says. 

McGonagall points to one. "Defendat Ordiantur, that’s a general protection for all of the creatures in the forest. I can’t imagine that this one would have an effect on Mr Malfoy, but it’s easy to find out. Draco, may I see your Dark Mark?”

She asks like it’s an actual question and not a request, so I know I can say no. I _want_ to say yes, but the memory of when Harry’s spell at the Ministry made my arm feel so cold I couldn’t move it haunts me.

“There’s three of us here that can stop it if it goes wrong,” Ron says. “Just say something and don’t let it build this time.”

I nod and roll up my sleeve and put my arm across the table for McGonagall to cast over. She starts casting and after a few spells sits back.

“That wasn’t it,” she says and I see Hermione make notes next to it.

Hermione finds a few others that will be easy to test, and McGonagall does the spellwork for them. After a time, Hermione sits back and gives her verdict. “There are a few more that I need to work on, but I think we’ve gotten all we need for tonight. Thank you, all.”

“And thank you from me, as well,” I say.

McGonagall pats my hand. “With that, I bid you all goodnight. Harry, can you make sure everyone gets home safely?” She leaves us with a yawn and a wave.

“Drop us off at ours?” Ron asks Harry. Ron, Harry and Hermione stand and Harry grabs them around their waists and Apparates them away. I finish my hot chocolate and Harry is back soon after.

“Ready?” he asks and I stand and lean my body against his and tuck my head into his neck. I feel and hear him laugh. “Tired?” he asks.

“Just take me home,” and I realise even before I’ve opened my eyes that he’s Apparated us to his place.

I brush my teeth, strip, and fall into bed. Harry’s not far behind me and as he gets into bed, I wiggle my legs under his. He runs his fingers through my hair.

“You still owe me dinner,” I say.

I feel him smile against my shoulder.

***

 

It’s a few weeks after our failed dinner date and another week of travelling for me. I spend the first two days in Coventry and then the rest of the week in Wolverhampton. I am starting to hate the Midlands.

Hermione had owled that she was still looking into the protection magic at the school and Harry had owled that they were planning on going to a club Friday night, if I was interested. Honestly, takeaway and going to bed early sounds loads better, but I know that it’ll be a good time.

I put on a green shirt, Slytherin green - I’m sometimes that obvious - and leather trousers and floo to Harry's, shoes in hand.

He waves at me from the kitchen area and I sink onto his sofa and peruse the headlines of the newspaper that I find next to me. Eddie arrives a few minutes later and then, to my surprise, the Weasley twins, Fred and George. They shake hands with Eddie and the three of them start chatting quietly.

Harry joins me on the sofa. “They’re not gay,” I whisper to Harry.

“I didn’t want to owl you the plan,” Harry says. “Have you done X before?”  

“No,” I say. 

“Do you want to?” Harry asks.

“Maybe,” I say. “What’s it like?”

“Do you want to have the best sex of your life?” Harry asks. 

That is the stupidest question I’ve been asked this week, and I spent two hours on Wednesday trying to explain to a housewitch in Penkridge that she couldn’t open an account for the ghost who lives in her house. “Ok,” I say. “I’m in. Does that explain the Weasleys?”

“Actually, yes,” Harry says. “The Weasleys and the Yangs are going to partner to make magical versions of muggle drugs. They’ve decided to start with X.” Harry looks … proud.

“Merlin, help us all,” I say. “This is quite literally the worst idea I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”

Eddie and the Weasleys are by now listening in on Harry and my conversation. “Coming from someone that used to hang out with an evil lunatic, that gives us great satisfaction,” George says. 

Fred leans over from his chair and grabs my shoulder. “We’re glad you approve.”

Eddie clings his glass to get our attention. “Ok, boys, we’re going to a gay club so can we make sure the straights are at least properly attired.”

Harry shrugs. “They look fine to me.”

“Draco!” Eddie yells in my general direction. “We need to fix this.”

Harry laughs and Fred and George look bemused. I sigh and pull out my wand. Eddie puts his hand on my wrist. “We need a plan.”

“Burn their clothes, put them in Harry’s least worst clothes,” I offer.

“Perfect!” Eddie says. The Weasleys and I follow Eddie to stand in front of Harry’s wardrobe. “Trousers off,” Eddie says. Fred and George both unbutton their trousers and slide them off, almost in perfect synchronisation. They’re both freckled and well-muscled head to toe it seems.

Eddie grabs my arm. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“It’s time for a martini?” I say.

“Look at them!” he says. George and Fred look at each other with some confusion. “Twin. Ginger. _Perfection._ ” Eddie says. They look delighted. I sigh.

“Short shorts and vests?” I offer. If Weasleys are Eddie’s type, let's do this all the way.

“Yes, yes, _yes_!” Eddie says. I point my wand at their trousers and change the trousers into shorts, and good-naturedly the twins pull on their new clothing. I tighten the shorts a bit more, and Eddie tweaks my work when I’m done. I rummage through Harry’s dresser and grab a couple of Harry’s t-shirts and turn them into vests. Fred and George keep grinning at each other as they change their shirts.

“And no socks!” Eddie says.

The twins are showing Harry their new outfits when Baz arrives, less late than usual. “Third favourite twins,” he calls out to Fred and George and kisses them both on the cheek.

“Olsens are first, Yangs are second, and then the Weasleys,” Harry informs me. I don’t know who the Olsens are, but knowing Baz, I probably don’t want to know.

“Are we ready?” Eddie asks, holding up a small plastic bag with little white pills. He hands us each a pill and Harry passes out glasses of water. I watch Harry swallow his, and then do the same.

We sit around for a while and I don't notice anything happening. After a bit, Baz announces that he’s feeling it and it’s time to go. We all Apparate to an abandoned loading dock and then walk to Fab, a gay muggle club located in a converted warehouse. There’s a warm breeze and it reminds me of beaches Mother took me to as a child.

There’s a queue to get into the club, maybe twenty people in it. The night is cool but not cold and I don’t mind waiting in a queue.

“Is this your first queue, Mr Rich White Man?” Eddie asks me.

I think about it. “I think so,” I say. “You?” I feel giddy, I could be anywhere in the world, but I’m here at this club and it feels so right.

“No way, club queues are a great place to meet your first fuck of the night.” I laugh, Eddie is funny and I’m having fun.

Harry is playing with my bracelet; he’s tracing the pattern in it with his finger.

I’m excited, the night stretches before us, I’ve got Harry with me. And Eddie and Baz and Fred and George. We’re wizards and we’re friends and I feel very connected to them, both in space and also in time.

I tell Baz this, and Baz is listening intently to me. “I know,” he says. “I feel like every moment I’ve had in my entire life has lead me to be here with you all. And maybe this moment is so important that even if I had made other choices, I would still have ended up here. We are prime numbers in a sea of composite numbers.”

I understand exactly what he’s trying to say, and I tell him that. The queue has moved enough that we’re next to go in, and I am so excited to go into the club, whenever the time is right, and I know that the bouncer understands this as well. 

Harry has stopped playing with my bracelet and is now tracing lines between the freckles on Fred or George’s arm.

“I can’t tell you apart,” I tell Fred or George, the one that Harry isn’t touching. “I know you’re two different people, but right now you feel like one person in my head and I think that’s beautiful.”

“That is exactly what it’s like being a twin,” Fred or George says. “We’re both two separate people but also sometimes one person.”

The other one says, “We sometimes have the same thought at the same time and it’s like did we think that because our brains are so similar at a molecular level, or because of our shared life experience?”

“That’s really beautiful,” I tell them and I feel like I, too, have a twin somewhere out there in the world.

Eddie tells me that I need to accept the job offer for Feilong. I tell him I was scared of the change, but now I don’t know why I was scared.

“You don’t know how to let yourself be happy,” Eddie says. “I’m going to tell Kelvin you said yes."

I smile at him but am distracted by the way his shirt feels against me; it's silk and feels the way clouds look.

I hadn’t noticed, but the bouncer is letting us in. Baz doesn’t want to stop stroking the velvet rope, but as the door opens the music comes pouring out and he says that he needs to dance.

I’m ready to dance, too, and it’s so great we’re at a place where we can dance with men and it’s fantastic. Baz intertwines our fingers together and I can’t stop staring at how different our fingers are, mine are light and his are dark and even though our hands look nothing alike, we both can do the same things with our hands: we can write, we can cast, we can masturbate.

I want to tell Baz this - that hands are amazing - but the music is so loud and pure and the lights are so beautiful and the way the music and lights are interacting together is just amazing. Baz is moving with the music in a way that is perfect, and I know that we’re both feeling the same music in the same way. He’s dancing in his uninhibited Baz way and I realise that I am dancing with him. Even when I don’t know the song, I know the beat and it feels so good to move and move and I’m not thinking about before and I’m not thinking about after, I’m just thinking about now. Even as the songs change, Baz and I are dancing. I spot the Weasleys on the other side of the floor and they’re dancing, too and even though they are straight and they are Weasleys, they are moving like the happiness I feel in my heart.

Baz and I have started dancing together, our bodies touching because touch makes us human and human is perfect, and the feeling of his hands in my hair is amazing, it feels like a hundred tiny waterfalls are gently flowing down my head. 

“I love you,” Baz tells me. 

I know that he does, I can feel the love between us. It feels like a physical connection, like I could reach out and touch the strands of the feeling of love between us. “I love you,” I tell him and I wish there was a word that meant more than love because _love_ doesn’t feel adequate for how I feel right now. Love is just emotions, but what I’m feeling is so much more than emotions, it’s the fabric of life itself.

Harry is next to me now. “I love you,” I tell him. He can’t hear me over the music, and I go to get closer to his ear, but I’m distracted by his hair. I run my fingers through his hair and his hair feels so good on my fingertips.

I run my fingers through Baz’s hair and his hair and Harry’s hair feels much the same, but it’s the differences that make them beautiful.

“You have to drink water,” Harry says to me and hands me a cup of water. I’m distracted by the way it feels in my hand; it’s cool and heavy and smooth. I take a sip and water has never tasted this good.

“I want to kiss you,” I tell Harry and Harry leans into me and I feel his warm amazing mouth on mine and his tongue in my mouth and I press my tongue against his and I have never understood until this moment how kissing is the way that souls talk. We kiss and kiss and I never want to stop.

Harry is saying goodbye to Baz and I run my fingers through Baz’s hair again. Baz is saying something about dancing forever and I nod and I tell him that I am leaving physically but emotionally I am still with him. “Yes, yes,” he says, not stopping his dancing, and Harry is pulling me across the floor and I see Eddie. Eddie is straddling a big Viking of man on a chair.

“We’re going to go fuck,” Harry tells Eddie. Eddie looks up from where he’s sitting on the big man’s lap and he’s smiling and the Viking is asking if we want company and Harry looks at me and I tell the Viking that Harry and I need to complete our journey together and it’s been going since we were 11 and the Viking says something and Eddie kisses him and Harry is pulling me again and we’re melting through the music and now we’re in front of the Weasleys and I can see patterns in the freckles on their cheeks and I trace the freckles on the one closest to me.

“It’s a Gemini constellation,” I tell him and the one is making little sparks fly from his fingertip and I can see magic in a way I’ve never seen it before, the way it’s a part of us and also a part of the universe. Wizards are more connected to parts of the unseen world than other people and I feel lucky to have this secret knowledge of the universe.

Harry grabs me by one hand and one of the Weasleys by the other and that Weasley grabs the other one and he guides us all out of the club and as the cool air hits us I feel the air enter my lungs and I can feel that air as it moves from my lungs and into all of my body parts. It’s purifying my body. Harry leads us into a side alley and tells us to get closer together and I have a Weasley twin on either side of me and they’re hugging each other and I’m in the middle and I can feel their love of each other passing through me and I’m so overwhelmed that I miss Harry Apparating all four of us back to his flat until they’re letting go of me. 

“I have you,” Harry says to me and hugs me and I can feel him running his hands up and down my back and it feels wonderful.

The Weasleys are sitting the rug in front of the sofa. One is running his hands delightedly over the rug and the other has a Weasley Wizard Wheezes gift box and I see him open it and there is a small musical tune that plays and the music so beautiful as it enters my ear. He’s pulling out item after item and there must be a shrinking charm involved and I can see the shimmer of the charm as he pulls each item out.

Harry is staring at the shimmery charm with me and I’m tempted to go play with it, too, but Harry is pulling my shirt off over my head and I need to feel all of my skin on all of his skin.

“Sex is natural and beautiful,” one of the twins says as Harry and I move to his bed behind the screen. 

Harry helps me take off my clothes and the feeling of the fabric moving over my skin is mesmerising. One of his blankets is soft and fluffy and I can’t stop running it over my cheek. Harry is smiling at me and I run the blanket down his cheek and he laughs.

“It’s soft,” he says and kisses me and I have never kissed like this, just for kissing and just about the kissing. I can’t think of anything but how warm his tongue is, how soft his lips and how his stubble is just enough that I can feel. I could kiss him for a million years.

“I could kiss you for a billion years,” he says. He twists the earring in my ear and it sends vibrations of warm feeling through my face.

At some point, I’m laying on my front, that soft blanket in my hands as Harry starts writing words on my back, which feels amazing. At first, he wanted me to guess what word he was writing, but I was so caught up in how it felt that I forgot to pay attention to the shapes he was making. He runs his hands through my hair and tugs lightly and it feels like there are tiny hands massaging each hair at the base and it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt. 

His casts a silent warming charm at me, which I always love, but this time I can feel it hit and time slows down and it’s like I can feel the molecules of air starting to move faster and I understand our magic so much, how we can change things with just words and intent.

I try and explain what I’m feeling to him and he’s nodding at me, never stopping his thumbs from rubbings small circles on my shoulder blades. “I know,” he says. “X makes me understand magic more than any lesson we ever had in school.”

After a while, he slowly gets hard, I can feel him as he’s kneeling across my back. I’m nowhere close, and that is fine, it's the way tonight is supposed to happen. He licks his way down my back, kisses with tongue and each press of his lips feels amazing. I want his tongue in my arse, and unselfconsciously, wantonly, I move my hips so my arsehole is under his tongue. He doesn’t stop licking and digs his tongue in and it’s the most amazing feeling in the world.

“How’s that?” he murmurs at me. 

“Never stop,” I tell him. He doesn’t for a long time, and I feel open and sloppy and amazing. He rolls me over to my back and goes down on my cock, but nothing is happening at all. It still feels so so good, and I run my hands through his dark hair and tell him how great his mouth is on me.

“Can I fuck you?” he asks.

“I want you to,” I say and he’s rimmed me so long that I’m ready for him and we both are lost for a few minutes with the way the lube warms up on our hands, on our cocks and our balls and the sensations when we touch our own cock and each other’s cock. For a while, we have our cocks next to each other and Harry uses both of his hands to rub both of them as one and it feels like he is worshipping me as some sort of a deity at the same time I am worshipping him.

He adjusts the height of his bed so I can keep my feet on the ground and lay with my front on the bed and my arse is the perfect angle for him.

He pushes my knees open and pushes the head of his cock into me and then uses his hand to move his cock around my hole. Little explosions of pleasure start at my rim and travel out and it is the best feeling in the world and I wish that everyone in the world was a gay man so they could feel this way, too and that might be the way to world peace because how can there be anything bad in the world when his cock can make me feel like this. He hits my prostate and all I can do is moan into the bed. He takes his cock out to finger my prostate more and it's so much and so perfect, and he eventually gets back to the fucking and unlike our first time with a condom, he is able to go and go and go. I lie there on the bed and take it and take it and take it. I’m not close to coming, but it’s still the most amazing feeling.

He pulls out and comes on my back and I can feel his come and it's so hot and wet and beautiful and I tell him that I have always loved him and he tells me that he has always loved me. He moves my legs so I'm back on the bed and he does a warming charm and it feels like I'm in a bath of the most perfect temperature and he lays down and I turn to my side and trace patterns on his chest and at some point, we fall asleep cuddling.

***

 

I hear Baz’s anteater Patronus and Eddie’s lion Patronus check in with Harry, and he sends his stag to let them know that we and the Weasley twins are at his.

At some point later, I hear someone cooking in the kitchen, and one of the Weasleys pops his head in and tempts Harry out of bed with a fry-up.

“Toast,” I say hoarsely.

“Ah, there’s the prick that we know and love,” and twin pats me on the head and I pull the pillow over my face.

Harry brings me water and I manage to sit up and drink it. He offers me toast in the living room and helps me pull on a bathrobe to make the ten steps to the sofa and I sink into it, absolutely knackered. Very tired but also still able to remember how happy I was last night.

Baz has already arrived and is searching through Harry’s kitchen drawer. “Harry, love, as a fellow Englishman I am ashamed of your tea selection. As a fellow Indian, I am ashamed of your tea selection. As a fellow queer, I am ashamed of your tea selection.” Baz holds up a box. “I wouldn’t serve this shite to my worst enemy.”

The Weasleys laugh, and Baz joins the four of us around the coffee table. I’ve managed three bites of toast and the rest of them are polishing off their fry-ups.

Eddie and Kelvin arrive soon after, and luckily the Weasleys are used to cooking for their family and there is plenty.

Eddie’s brought one of his potions for me. “A little bit of a painkiller, a little bit of a muscle relaxer,” he explains. I’m not sure about this; I only trust two potion makers in all of Britain. Eddie sighs at my reluctance. He runs his fingers up my jaw and past my ears and he’s right, that’s where the pain is concentrated. “You were clenching your jaw, and your head hurts.” I take a sip, I taste a hint of plum and something flowery. 

“Don’t analyse, just drink,” Eddie says. I do.

“Any straight man that makes me brekkie is ok in my book,” Baz says stretching. “Harry, invite the gingers more often.”

“With the way Harry was making Draco sound last night -,” George says.

“- we are both more interested in the homosexual lifestyle than ever before,” Fred says.

"Pity we love our girlfriends," George says.

I have never been so embarrassed in my life. “Was he loud?" Baz asks. "Draco always seemed like he'd be loud."

"Loud and enjoying himself fully," Fred says. 

"I love white people,” Baz says, and pats me on the head as he heads to the kitchen for seconds.

“I thought the gingers were going to stay out with us,” Eddie says. 

“They were doing magic at the club, I had to bring them back with us,” Harry says.

“I forgot we went muggle,” Fred says. 

“Sorry about that,” George says.

“Thanks for the Apparate,” Fred says. 

Eddie turns to glare at Harry. “Did you fucking Apparate four people at once last night while you were rolling?” he asks. 

Harry looks a little guilty. “Yes, but I had it handled.”

“Do you think you're sort of superhero?” Eddie asks.

“He did die,” George offers.

“It’s the coming back that is the hard part,” Fred says.

Baz is delighted at the drama. “I fucking love brunch,” he says waving his fork around. 

The Yangs and the Weasleys are discussing what sort of potion they want to make that can duplicate the feeling of X. “It was the happiness of a love potion combined with the sense of right of Felix Felicis,” I say. 

Eddie shoots me a glare. “No luck potions,” he says. “Western people are always messing around with their luck. Don’t fuck with your luck. Write that down, teach that at your Hogwarts.”

“We need a whole line,” George says.

“Take this potion and play with these toys,” Fred says, on the same wavelength as George.

“Selling together or separately, twice the sales,” Eddie is nodding. For all that Eddie and Kelvin call Baize a hobby, they’re good businessmen. I suppose the Weasleys are, too.

“I don’t know who is more of menace,” I say. “The Weasleys or the Yangs.”

“I just realised something quite funny,” Harry said, he’s covering his face and grinning. “The Yangs should tell the Weasleys about how they left school, and the Weasleys should tell the Yangs how they left school.”

“Oh, I love a good story,” Fred says.

“Yeah, so me ‘n’ Fred were leaving to go start the jokes shop, yeah?” George says.

“Had to get away from that awful Umbridge,” Fred says.

“She was the worst!” George says.

“So on the way out the door,” Fred says.

“We made a swamp outside her office!” George says.

“Couple weather charms,” Fred says.

“Few horticulture tricks,” George says. 

“Permanent sticking charm,” Fred says.

“That was a moment of genius, Freddy,” George says.

“It’s still around!” Baz says. “I find myself walking through it, especially at night when I’m raiding the kitchen.”

Eddie looks delighted. “For sure twins after our own hearts!” he says. He looks at Kelvin. “Should I tell the story or you?”

Kelvin shrugs. “I thought we agreed: I did all the work, you took all the credit.”

Eddie laughs. “I did some of the work, it was half my idea. So, we’re 13 and at École d'Alchimie -”

“You went to École d'Alchimie? Good school,” I interrupt. It’s Swiss, very expensive, and very very exclusive.

“Surely a _Malfoy_ could have gone,” he says.

“My Father would rather be the biggest fish in a small pond, than a small fish in a big pond,” I say. “Who would have he have threatened with his money at École d'Alchimie?”

“Was it a school of Dracos?” George asks.

“That sounds awful,” Fred chimes in. 

“If it had been a school of twinky white boys, I would have never left,” Eddie says. “So Kelvin had changed his name, but our classmates wouldn’t stop using the wrong name and the wrong pronouns, and we wanted to make a clean break, start over. We asked our parents to transfer us, and they said no. So we needed to get kicked out without losing our visa because we still wanted to go to school in Switzerland.” 

“We try to keep at least 9000 kilometres between us and our parents at all times,” Kelvin explains.

“Right,” Eddie said. “So, and this was Kelvin’s idea, we turned classroom doorways into tiny portals, when you walked through the door you were transferred to a different classroom.”

“And I set them to work at random,” Kelvin says. “For the full effect.”

Fred and George are transfixed. “Beautiful,” George says.

Eddie grins. “It did the trick. We told the administration we would happily leave if they sent along a glowing recommendation to our next school.”

“The Weasley-Yang unnamed venture is going to be an amazing success,” Fred says.  

“Yeasley?” George says.

“WANG,” they both yell together.

The Yangs soon head out. The potion Eddie brought is doing wonders: I feel mostly human. I’ve managed the rest of my toast and coffee and I have my head on Baz’s thigh and he’s running his hands through my hair and massaging my jaw where it’s still sore from last night.

Hermione comes through the floo. She pauses when she sees us, I can see her trying to figure out the situation. I’m guessing that “invited the Weasley twins over to experiment with MDMA as part of a business partnership” isn’t going to be her first guess.

“What are you doing here?” she says accusingly to Fred and George.

“I’m turning them gay,” Harry says. “Clearly.” 

“We made breakfast,” George says.

“Our way to say thanks for a good night,” Fred says, with a wink. 

Hermione is working towards a proper strop. “You have girlfriends!” she says. 

“Who we should really be going home to,” Fred says. 

They both tousle my hair, slap Harry on the arse, and floo out. Hermione is glaring, and I want no part of it.

I pull the bathrobe around me and stand. “Sit down,” Hermione says. 

“I’m not _dressed_ ,” I say.

“You’re not _naked_ ,” Hermione says. I’m glaring at her. She takes a deep breath.“I came here to talk to you, sit right there.” I sit back down next to Baz who is amused at this situation.

“Please remember when you read anything about the War that Harry would have been useless without this one,” I say to him.

“I died, you know,” Harry says. 

“Still couldn’t have done a bloody thing without Granger,” I say.

Baz hops up. “Well, this has been quite the gay and hearty, but I’ve got essays to mark.” He kisses Harry and me on the cheek, and floos away.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Hermione says. “I was excited, you know how I get.”  
  
“It’s fine,” Harry replies. “What’s so urgent?”  
  
“I was reviewing all of my notes and we forgot one thing,” she says. “Elder Wand.”  
  
“The what?” I interrupt. “Because it sounds like you said _Elder Wand_ like from fairy tales.”  
  
Harry and Hermione shift uncomfortably. “That’s the one,” Hermione says. “It seems that there are some details from the War haven’t been made public.”  
  
“It’s not that big of deal, really,” Harry says.  
  
I’m looking at his wand. “It’s not this one,” Harry says. “I never used it. Well, I used it once to fix this wand.”  
  
“Of course you did,” I say.  
  
“Anyway, what does this have to do with Draco’s Dark Mark?” Harry asks Hermione. 

“Dark Marks are attracted to power. So when Draco disarmed Dumbledore, he was the master of the Elder Wand -” Hermione says.

“When I did what now?” I interrupt.

“In the astronomy tower,” Hermione says impatiently.

“What do you know about that?” I ask.

“Harry was there,” Hermione says. I turn to Harry.

“Invisibility cloak,” Harry says shrugging.  
  
“Now it’s a working theory,” Hermione says. “What if in that moment, his Mark connected to the Elder Wand. And then when Voldemort died, instead of the connection dying, his switched back to the Elder Wand, which his Mark would have known to seek out and would have been close by.”

This is unbelievable. I turn to Harry, who looks to be mulling it over.  
  
“We don’t know for sure,” Hermione emphasizes. “And we didn’t know at the time, and there’s not really enough literature that I’ve been able to consult.”  
  
A thought hits me like a runaway train. “Your invisibility cloak,” I say. “Also from the story?”  
  
“Yes, but I didn’t know until the War.”  
  
“All you need is the Resurrection Stone,” I tell him. He doesn’t say anything, and I look at his face. “Are you guys fucking with me?” I ask.  
  
“I don’t have it, and I can’t tell you where it is,” he says.

“I don’t want the thing,” I tell him, truthfully. I know better than most that power corrupts. Look at my father, You-Know-Who, all of the Death Eaters rotting away in Azkaban. Harry reaches over and has my arm in both of his hands as he’s running his thumb over the Mark itself. “I don’t know what else I can do that I haven’t already been doing,” he says.

“I think we need to get the wand itself,” Hermione says. “Oh, you’d better get dressed.”

I throw my hands up. “I was trying to do that before this absolutely insane conversation started.” I get dressed in Harry's clothes and meet Harry and Hermione who have been talking on the sofa. In the meantime, Ron’s arrived and is eating a giant plate of food leftover from when his brothers made it earlier. 

“This tastes like my mum’s cooking,” he says.

“Fred and George made it,” Harry says. Ron nods, accepting that his brothers were here to cook breakfast this morning. Hermione steals his toast.

“So Harry is technically the master of my Dark Mark?” I ask.

“The wand is, and Harry was the last owner of the wand,” Hermione says, a distinction that is lost on me.

“Is that why you’re able to change my Mark in a way that changes me?” I ask Harry.

He shrugs and looks at Hermione. “That makes sense, right?” Hermione says.

“Where are we headed?” I ask, realising I’m the only one that doesn’t know about this mystical wand.

“Luna Lovegood's,” Harry says. 

“Seriously?” I ask.

“Can you think of anyone better?” Ron asks me. 

“Actually, no,” I say.

Harry Apparates all four of us to a small seaside cottage. Luna is outside gardening, I suspect, but wouldn’t swear to it. She greets us with a wave and one of her smiles.

“You’re just in time for tea,” she tells us.

We follow her into her cottage and it’s exactly what I would have pictured for her: cozy and comfortable and full of odd things. Ron is excited to sit on a chair that’s in the shape of a hand. Harry sits on the sofa and I follow. Hermione is helping Luna in the kitchen, they’re both talking about their favourite teas.

After tea, we head to the beach, and we push two old rowboats across the sand and into the sea. Ron rows the boat with Luna and Hermione, and Harry rows ours. When the shore is far away, but still in sight, Luna and Harry dive into the sea and swim down. 

“They prepared for this, right?” I ask. “Gillyweed or something?”

I think they want to laugh at me, but Ron nods his head. “It’s perfectly alright.”

We wait and wait and wait. Ok, it’s probably only been a few minutes. Harry and Luna surface a dozen yards away and swim easily back to the boats. Harry has a wand - the Elder Wand? - in between his teeth. I counterbalance on the far side of the boat, and Harry easily hoists himself back in.

The wand is normal, vaguely familiar. I thought now that I knew its secret that it would look different. Shouldn’t it shimmer menacingly or something? Harry’s cast some drying and warming charms, and he casts another one at me.

I see him smiling softly at me. “What?” I say. 

“I have a feeling that you only keep me around for my warming charms.” 

“Don’t say that like it’s a bad thing," I say.

He kneels in the bottom of the boat in front of me, and pushes my sleeve up. Well, it’s technically his sleeve since I borrowed a jumper this morning.

Hermione has rowed their boat over to ours and she and Ron are holding the two boats together.

“Any last words?” he asks me.

“Oh, just get rid of it,” I say. I’m getting more and more nervous. Is it going to hurt? What if the Elder Wand wasn’t the issue anyway? It doesn't matter if this works or not, it’s just one more step to figuring this whole thing out, I tell myself, not getting my hopes up.

Harry kisses my forearm, right in the middle of the Mark and drawing the wand, murmurs something I don’t quite hear under his breath. A small red light connects my arm and the Elder wand, although I can’t say which way the light started, if the wand sent the light down to my mark or if it was pulling the light up from my mark.

I blink and the Mark is gone. I blink again and it’s still gone. Harry sits back on his heels, beaming.

“That’s it?” I ask him.

“Yep.”

“That was very anticlimactic.”

“Next time I’ll make sure to put on more of a show,” he says dryly.

Hermione is leaning over into the space above our boat, so I move my arm so she can see. She runs her fingers over my skin. “Not even a scar,” she says. 

“Let’s put this back,” Harry says to Luna motioning at the Wand and they both dive back into the water.

“Do you feel any different?” Hermione asks. 

“Let him take a breath,” Ron says. 

“I feel the same,” I admit.

“The effects came on slow, they probably will leave slow,” Hermione muses. She and Ron push off of my boat and we drift together, several feet apart.

Harry and Luna surface, and swim back to their boats, and we all row back into shore. Luna says we need more tea, and she, Hermione and Ron head up the path to her cottage. Harry and I linger on the beach. I hug him and he pulls back to kiss me.

“Thank you,” I tell him. “Even if it doesn’t work, thank you for trying.”

He tilts his head to the side and gives me a look. “I fixed it.”

“How do you know?” I feel the same.

“Try a Patronus.”

“Now?”

“Yeah.” He’s acting matter of fact, not cocky.

But what do I have to lose? I pull out my wand. I practice the motion a few times and then try it for real. “Expecto patronum,” I say and a tiny wisp comes out.

I look at Harry to see if he saw what I saw. I deserve an “I told you so,” but I get a kiss instead. We head back to Luna's cottage hand-in-hand. I realise that I'm excited to start working for the Yangs. I'm ready to tell my mother that I'm gay. And mostly I'm happy that I get to do all of this with Harry. I squeeze his hand and he squeezes back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More rhyming slang:  
> * gay and hearty = party
> 
> Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoyed! I spent a summer in my early 20s going to gay clubs with my gay friends M and S, and this story is an ode to that summer, a summer of drinking and dancing ... and drama. Naturally, everything is fictionalized and not based on actual events, but I hope that I captured some of the feelings of those moments in a way that feels truthful and real. 
> 
> If you would like a little more of this story, some [deleted scenes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13492851) are available. 
> 
> I am on [tumblr](https://numinousnumbat.tumblr.com/).


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